


If You Stop To Think, You're Gone

by gayerthanjew



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayerthanjew/pseuds/gayerthanjew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brittany is a hardened boxer and Santana is the arm candy of a wealthy politician who's involved in the boxing world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Don't forget Pierce, you're taking Gonzaga tomorrow."

"How could I forget?" Brittany grunted, accentuating each word with a blow to the worn punching bag hanging in the corner of the gym. She could feel Jack watching her but she didn't look up. Wes grimaced as he held the bag steady, feeling Brittany's hits reverberating in his hands and arms. Her weighted gloves made every hit twice as hard.

"Save your sarcasm for the ring, 'kay?" Jack frowned and eyed the blonde before retreating to his office in the front of the small gym. Brittany ducked lower, pummeling the bag with a quick series of hits before pulling away with a final grunt, chest heaving as she breathed heavily. Her pale skin shone with sweat and the fabric of her sports bra was darkened with the perspiration it wicked from her body. Wes stood back, shaking his hands.

"Well, you sure seem ready," he commented, watching her pull off the gloves to grab her water bottle. His eyes flickered over her already bruised knuckles. _Nothing she isn't used to_ , he thought idly.

"I was born ready," Brittany cracked a smile as she put the bottle back down and took a few playful swipes at her trainer. Wes had been training Brittany since she was 16, and even after 7 years of close contact, her cheerful demeanor still managed to surprise him. He dodged her jabs and grabbed her, pulling her into a light headlock.

"And he's got Pierce in a death grip! It doesn't look good for her folks! This could be the – oof!"

Brittany landed a half-hearted punch in Wes' toned yet vulnerable gut that forced the air from his lungs. She pulled back, holding her hands up in celebration.

"Damn it Pierce," Wes wheezed.

"Whoops," Brittany apologized, not sounding sorry at all.

"Get out of here before I polish you off and leave nothing for Gonzaga to face."

Brittany laughed and grabbed her water bottle before heading towards the door. She picked her hoodie up off the rack along the front wall.

"And try and get some sleep tonight!" He called after his retreating fighter.

Brittany only rolled her eyes and said she'd try. She pulled her hoodie on and stepped outside, knowing it was an empty answer. No matter how many matches she had under her belt, sleep was the last thing on her mind the night before a fight.

True to her thoughts, Brittany lay awake in bed that night, staring at the glow in the dark stars she had on the ceiling. They were dimming already, having been last exposed to light so many hours ago. Her body ached as she rolled onto her stomach and adjusted her pillow. After getting home from the gym she had done a few rounds of her own workout in hopes of tiring herself out enough to sleep. If anything the extra activity had only gotten her even more wired than before.

While her thighs and biceps shut down for the night, her brain got its own workout chasing memories so clear they could have happened yesterday. Brittany fell on the one she always did, the one that sat in the back of her mind daily but made its presence obnoxiously clear at night.

* * *

_Her sister was six and old enough to handle herself in the park for 10 minutes, right? Right. Brittany jogged down the street to the grocery store after leaving Kait on the swings in the park. Their mom was working the late shift again and they needed dinner. Well, Kait needed dinner, Brittany could go without if it came down to it._

_Once in the store Brittany scooped up some cheap pasta and cookies. She frowned at the price as the cashier rang her up, but the smile on Kait's face would be worth the extra few dollars for the cookies. She glanced at her watch nervously and placed a few wrinkled bills and the correct change on the counter before grabbing the bag and heading back towards the park._

_As she came up to the playground she heard a faint yelp come from a group of stocky looking boys near the swings. Her heart in her throat, Brittany tore across the grass towards the group, hoping she had misheard the voice and that the absence of her sister only meant she went to the gross bathrooms set up in the corner of the park._

_"C'mon kid, just give us your bracelet and we'll leave you alone," one of the boys growled._

_When she neared them Brittany peered around the three boys and saw her sister sitting in the dirt, her face blotchy and red, clutching her wrist tightly to her chest._

_"Hey!" She shouted, pushing past one of the boys and kneeling down in front of Kait. "Hey munchkin, are you okay? Did they hurt you?"_

_The small blonde broke into fresh sobs at the arrival of her sister but shook her head. "They tried to take the bracelet Daddy gave me. When I said 'no' they pushed me," she hiccupped._

_Brittany's eyes narrowed and she stood up, turning to face the boys who were probably her age. She was taller than them, but they were probably twice her weight, at least. The one in the middle looked smugly from his friends to Brittany._

_"Listen, we don't want any trouble, 'kay babe? Just the bracelet."_

_"You don't want any trouble, so that's why you were picking on a six year old?" Brittany nearly hissed through gritted teeth. "You feel good about yourself, trying to take a bracelet from a kid less than half your size?" She dropped the grocery bag next to her and clenched her fists._

_The boy raised his eyebrows. "You think you're gonna fight us for this?"_

_Brittany hadn't even considered it; her actions had been reactive. But now there was a rage coursing through her, manifesting itself in the deep nail imprints in the palm of her hands, the tightly clenched jaw muscles, and the way her body twitched as the biggest boy stepped forward._

_He reached a burly hand out towards her as if to push her away, as if to sweep her aside to get to Kait, and she snapped. With the blink of an eye Brittany felt a blinding pain in her right fist as it connected with the boy's jaw._

_"Fuck!" he cursed, staggering backwards. His friends turned to him and Brittany pulled her hand towards her, balking at the pain._

_"You bitch," the boy was already heading towards her again, rubbing his jaw and turning his head to spit blood to the ground._

_"Kait, run home," Brittany said without looking back at her sister._

_"No, Brit –"_

_"Damn it, Kait. Go home!"_

_Brittany ducked as the boy swung at her. He was so slow, she found herself thinking in awe as she moved back up. She heard Kait stand up behind her, stepping back slowly._

_"Hey! Hey, stop!" An older voice called from the street. The boys froze and everyone turned to see who was shouting at them. A large man in a suit was crossing into the park towards them, and the boy still holding his jaw hit his friends in the shoulders with his free hand._

_"Let's get out of here," he said hurriedly._

_The group took off in the opposite direction to the street that ran along the other side of the park. Brittany watched them go, calling them cowards in her mind but relieved to see their backs. She felt Kait wrap her small arms around her legs and ran her left hand over her hair, pulling her closer._

_"Are you okay?" The large man asked as he reached them. Brittany studied him, wondering what a man with a suit like that was doing in this part of town._

_"Yeah, thank you." Brittany smiled appreciatively. The man looked down at her right hand._

_"That was some punch you got in there…but you might wanna have that looked at."_

_Brittany nodded, knowing she could never afford a trip to the E.R. and just hoped her hand was badly bruised and nothing more. A thought crossed her mind and she frowned._

_"How long were you watching that for?" She blurted out._

_The man's lips twitched. "I just wanted to see you land one on him," he replied, not mentioning that he held himself back long enough to watch her duck the boy's punch as well. Brittany scowled but said nothing._

_"Britt, I'm hungry" Kait chimed in._

_"Okay girlie, let's get home and make some dinner. I got a special treat for you, too"_

_Kait beamed. The man watched the two blondes and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small business card._

_"Have you ever fought before?" He asked Brittany, still holding the card in his hand. She shook her head, uncertain as to where this was going. "Well, maybe you should give me a call sometime. We're always looking for fresh talent, we pay well – real well," he emphasized when he caught interest flicker through Brittany's eyes. "And I think you'd be a great match for our company." He extended his card to Brittany, who took it hesitantly._

_"Think about it," the man, who according to his business card was named Jack Donally, said as he watched Brittany scan the card. He waited for her to say something but when she didn't, he turned and walked back towards the street._

_Brittany pocketed the card and watched him go, her mouth full of questions she decided not to ask. Instead she picked the bag up off the floor and took Kait's hand in hers._

" _Let's go," she mumbled as she led her smaller girl through the park towards their apartment._

* * *

Brittany remembered how the card had burned in her pocket that night years ago, almost as painfully as her swollen hand. She remembered doing a web search on a computer in the public library of the name "Jack Donally" the next day. Countless pages of both the negative and positive variety made her eyes water late into the night until she realized her mom would be worrying about her and she hurried home.

For days, Brittany would sit through meals and classes, distracted by the card she kept on her at all times. Jack Donally seemed to be a saint, a thief, a monster, and a genius all at once. His company had produced some of the most successful boxers in the history of the sport. But his name was also attached to both business and personal scandals, one of them being the disappearance of a female boxer after a surprising loss to a famous international opponent.

Brittany had decided she didn't want anything to do with Donally. She was only 16, trying to get through school while helping her mom keep it together while taking care of her sister. Her dad had passed away a few years ago and they didn't have insurance; money had always been tight. Her mom had picked up extra shifts at the diner down the street, but they always only managed to break even, living from paycheck to paycheck. Brittany had enough on her plate to deal with already; there was no need to tangle with a sketchy businessman, no matter what he might have to offer.

But she still held on to the card. It sat on her small nightstand in the room she shared with Kait. Brittany never knew why she didn't throw it out. She shook her head at the nagging thought that she held on to it because she knew she would use it, but it kept coming back. Whatever it was, her resolve broke one night about a week after the incident in the park. She was picking out pajamas for Kait to wear (the little girl liked the surprise) as Kait stood shivering in her towel in the bathroom. When Brittany brought her sister her clothes, she noticed how skinny Kait was. She could literally see the little girl's ribs and it made her stomach twist. Kait was a trooper and never complained when meals were small or sparse, but Brittany beat herself up for it every day.

And that's how she found herself standing outside the small gym downtown after school, Donally's creased card clutched tightly in her right hand, which was sore but functioning. The large man in the front office had smiled like the Chesire cat when Brittany walked in. She felt he must have worked hard to keep his smug satisfaction to a minimum; even then she knew he was playing her like a harp, but she had felt like she had no choice. Jack had used keywords like "strength", "success", "loyalty", and maybe the nail in the coffin had been "financial stability", but that same evening Brittany returned home feeling as if she had been run over by a truck.

Donally had introduced her to Wes, a young trainer who apparently knew what he was talking about. They had trained, or more accurately, Wes had pummeled Brittany like a punching bag, for 3 hours straight. She was too young to legally sign up with the company just yet, but Brittany had a feeling a handshake with Donally was just as solid as any written document. Either way, he had given her a gift card to the grocery store before she left, ensuring her family food for the week and her return to the gym the next day.

Brittany rolled over in her bed again and groaned at the soreness in her muscles as she rested on her side. Her mind still churning with the memories from years ago, she managed to fall into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Boxing is just show business with blood." -Frank Bruno

She spent the day of the match with her mother and sister, like she always did. It bordered on morbid, the way they treated Brittany as if she was off to a war and might not return; as if this was their last day with her. Every game day yielded the same results and Brittany did her best to keep the day light and humorous. Kait was 13 now and took after her sister – she was already taller than average and quite lean. Her mother was in her 40's and always looked exhausted. Brittany worked double time to make her mom laugh, savoring the moments when the older woman's eyes crinkled with a large smile.

They went to an ice cream place after lunch and Brittany said she'd pay for their treats, making Kait grin and order an extra scoop. Brittany rolled her eyes and pushed her sister lightly, grinning when the girl scowled. The three sat at a table by the window, eating their ice cream in comfortable silence.

"I should head to the arena after this," Brittany said quietly.

Her mother kept her eyes trained on her ice cream but Kait nodded. Brittany watched her mother, looking for acknowledgement she wouldn't get. When Brittany had first started boxing, she had kept it a secret for as long as she could, but bruises along with fat checks and gifts made it hard to keep her new "hobby" a secret.

The worst was that her mother didn't hate it, but hated herself for not hating it. How could a single mother working double shifts complain when there was money coming in to feed her children? So her mother turned her cheek, ignoring how Brittany made the money, ignoring how her oldest daughter sat in ice baths nearly every night, ignoring the cuts and the bandages and the bruises. Brittany could only feel bad for her mother, understanding the position she was in and feeling almost no resentment towards the woman who had given her life. At the time Kait had really been too young to understand, and Brittany and her mother shared a mutual feeling that the suddenly regular appearance of food didn't need to be explained just yet.

Once Brittany had turned 18, there were documents signed and her status with the Donally Company became official. It was an event that was celebrated at the gym but glossed over at home. As a signing present, Donally gave Brittany a set of keys to a small apartment close to the gym, telling her gruffly that it'd be good for her. Brittany took the keys, wondering if Donally ever did anything that was solely good for someone else and that he didn't benefit from as well. Her sister cried when she moved out and her mother just told her not to forget about them. Brittany bit her tongue, holding back the hundreds of retorts she wanted to shout at her mother, as if she wasn't doing all of this to help them.

She found release in boxing, in landing a punch, in landing another punch, and even in getting hit. She fought her hardest during practice and real matches, but somewhere in the back of her mind there was a switch that let herself take a blow. Every once and a while, Brittany would see a hit before it happened and just let it land. The pain along with the bruises that developed afterwards gave her a certain rush she couldn't find elsewhere.

Over the years she bonded with her trainer. She was astutely aware that it was he who helped keep her on track over the years. Wes had taken her under his wing, kept her from getting into trouble – especially with Donally – and even invited her to some of his parties. He had great parties. Epic parties. They were usually free of people from the boxing circuit, so Brittany was allowed to be the mysterious tall girl with the body men stared at and women envied. And that role suited her perfectly. But as time went on, Brittany not only found herself ignoring the men that came on to her – mostly because they were older and creepy – but also eyeing Wes' female friends instead.

She never really did anything about it. Sure she drank and danced, and she may have even moved better on the dance floor than in the ring, but the idea of trying to flirt with a woman, an older woman (as the average age of Wes' guests was much higher than Brittany's), scared the blonde. It wasn't until one night, after Brittany had had too much to drink, that she found herself in Wes' bathroom sucking face with a petite brunette she had danced with earlier. The feeling had been intoxicating and Brittany found confirmation in something she had felt deep in her gut ever since she was little.

She had few friends so coming out wasn't a big thing: she told her mother and sister and Wes. Her mother just kissed her and told her "whatever made her happy", Kait giggled and thought it was silly that Brittany liked girls like she liked boys, and Wes only smirked and said, "duh".

Now Brittany sighed as she toyed with her ice cream that was melting into cold soup. Kait poked at the cup with her own spoon and Brittany chuckled before pushing it towards her sister, who devoured the second helping happily. Her mother stood up silently, holding out a hand towards her youngest daughter. Kait got up and threw out the cups before running back towards Brittany who had also stood. She jumped into Brittany's arms; the older girl picked her sister up easily.

"Good luck B!" Kait giggled as Brittany peppered her face with kisses. "Knock him dead!"

"Always," Brittany grinned as she put her sister down. Her mother hugged her tightly, asking her solemnly to be careful. Brittany nodded and kissed her mother on the cheek before they walked outside. They parted ways at the corner and Brittany headed towards the arena a few blocks down. Her mom and sister never came to her fights. She would never allow it, but she didn't think her mother wanted to either. Kait had protested the first few times but gave up when the older women showed no signs of budging.

Brittany sighed to herself as she punched in the code and pulled open the "Athletes Entrance" door and entered the arena.

* * *

The roar of the crowd was in a constant state of deafening. Brittany couldn't tell if she got a reaction from the audience, but she didn't really care either way. This had never been about the fanfare for her. Wes grabbed her before she stepped up into the ring.

"Let him swing first. You'll see it."

She barely heard him over the crowd but she nodded, keeping his words in her mind as she stepped under the ropes and into the elevated ring. She looked around the audience. The arena was sold out, meaning that there were 50,000 people screaming and drinking, people thirsty for raw physical violence. Brittany tapped her gloves together, shaking her head. She looked over at the announcers in the booths and the other special boxes level with the ring. The upper class's simultaneous interest and disdain for the sport always intrigued her. It also bothered her that they paid who knows how much for the best seats in the house and usually spent the matches eating fancy cocktails and not watching the action.

Rocking from heel to toe, Brittany worked to forget the people in the booths and the stands. She closed her eyes and focused her body, pumping herself up for the grueling match that was minutes away. She looked up and saw Gonzaga talking to his trainer in the corner of the ring. Brittany watched his muscles twitch as he tightened his gloves and stretched his arms. Her brow furrowed as the bell rang.

The fighters met in the middle with the referee who went over the rules they both knew by heart. They bumped gloves in a staged show of sportsmanship – well, Brittany meant it, but she feared her opponents rarely did – and returned to their corners for a moment. Brittany shrugged off her giant 'Donally' hoodie that had been draped across her back to reveal her black sports bra that matched her black shorts.  _Nothing like a little skin to make things interesting_ , Brittany mimicked Donally in her mind. Gonzaga was shirtless too, but the female body was always a bit more of an attention grabber in the world of sports.

The starting bell chimed and the boxers advanced towards the middle of the ring where they circled each other. Brittany had her gloves up in front of her face as she watched Gonzaga; her every nerve ending on fire. Each fighter made a few tentative jabs, mostly for the purpose of making the other flinch. Brittany itched to strike out seriously but Wes' words made her wait.

Finally Gonzaga lashed out, a pistol of a shot that would have landed Brittany with a broken nose if she hadn't ducked to the side. That's when she saw it. To say it was in slow motion would be dramatic and incorrect, but it was this precise vision that Brittany was only vaguely aware of herself, but which Wes had seen when they trained. She grinned devilishly at what she saw. It was like a gaping hole in Gonzaga's technique; he left himself wide open and Brittany didn't think twice before punishing her foe with a right hook to the ribs. Gonzaga flew backwards, gripping his stomach as Brittany pinned him against the ropes, steeling herself to pummel her opponent even though her instinct was to show mercy at his defenselessness.

Her arms were on fire by the time the whistle sounded. The ref pulled her off Gonzaga, giving the first round to Brittany and giving her opponent a second to get his head back on straight. The crowd was a dull roar in the back of her mind, her head filled mostly with the pounding of her own blood as it rushed through.

The second round commenced, and Gonzaga adjusted himself and dominated Brittany, but took his time, toying with her and landing blows hard enough to keep her in pain but not knock her out. She was exhausted by the time the second bell rang.

Brittany sat down in her corner, lungs straining for air and her head spinning. Wes hovered over her, squirting water in her mouth and on her forehead to keep her cool. Her chest was on fire and she could barely feel her left shoulder.

"Let's go Britt, he's fucking tired too – let's go" Wes tapped Brittany's knee as he bent over meeting her eye to eye. She nodded and wiped the sweat and water dripping from her face. Gonzaga was pandering to the crowd when Brittany stood; he had his hands up gesturing for them to cheer louder. She frowned and flexed her fists in her gloves.

**/**

The final whistle blew before Gonzaga even hit the floor. Brittany raised her hands over her head instinctively, pumping victoriously even as Wes jumped all over her, screaming himself hoarse. The third round had been brutal but the last hit Brittany threw was the closer. Gonzaga's trainer and med team swarmed him as Wes led Brittany to the locker rooms. Usually the winner was supposed to give an interview while still in the ring, but that was one aspect Brittany dared fight Donally on, and one that she won. She was not made for TV, no matter how good she looked or boxed. But she did still have to prepare for the winner's party later that night.

* * *

Six hours after the match and two cortisone shots later, Brittany found herself in the bathroom of one of the fanciest hotels downtown, adjusting the strap of her dress that kept sliding down her shoulders. The stylist Donally brought in that afternoon had covered her face, neck, shoulders, and even arms in make up to hide any and every cut and bruise from the fight that day. The blonde groaned at the small smudge of make up that had somehow made it onto her dress even though she had only been at the party for 15 minutes.

She took a paper towel and ran it under warm water to dab at the smudge. Brittany was so engrossed in her attempt to clean the dress she hadn't even noticed there was someone in one of the stalls behind her. The toilet flush made her jump and drop the wet clump of paper towel. She bent down to pick it up and throw it out before grabbing a new one. Her stomach flipped as she stood back up, her eyes landing on the woman now washing her hands in the sink next to her.

The woman was stunning in a tight red cocktail dress that stopped high on her thighs and dropped low on her shoulders, exposing a pronounced collarbone. She had tan skin with long dark hair and even darker eyes, and was wearing some extravagant yet tasteful jewelry. Their eyes met in the mirror briefly before Brittany turned to get another paper towel and run it under water. She could feel the woman watching her as she dabbed at her dress.

"You're just going to make it worse," she stated matter-of-factly. Brittany looked up, meeting dark brown eyes in the mirror. She frowned.

"Damn it," she mumbled, letting her hand drop. "I'm hopeless," Brittany muttered to herself, tossing the towel in the trash.

"Here," the shorter woman held out what looked like a small baby wipe. "It's a make up remover. It'll get most of it off." She insisted, extending her hand further. Brittany smiled gratefully and took the wipe.

"Guess you can't box your way out of fashion troubles, huh?" She offered slyly, watching Brittany's arm flex as she wiped the stain from her dress. The fighter's lips twitched upwards. She always forgot she was relatively recognizable, even when she was dolled up. She only chuckled in response.

"You were really incredible out there though," the woman continued. Brittany felt herself blush and stared intently down at her dress, even though the make up was pretty much gone from the fabric. "Anyways...I should probably get back out there." The woman pushed off the counter she had been leaning on. "You probably should too," she smiled, giving Brittany a quick once over.

Brittany could only chuckle again, completely tongue-tied by the woman in front of her. The woman smiled before turning on her heel and heading for the door.

"See you around," she called over her shoulder.

"Yeah," Brittany finally managed as the door closed.  _I sure hope so_ , she thought, before mentally kicking herself. She hadn't even gotten the woman's name.

**/**

Brittany spent the rest of the party wishing she could get drunk, but Wes reminded her that drinking after heavy painkillers was not the wisest decision. She pouted but Wes just shook his head. She knew he was right, but these events always consisted of a nauseating amount of ass-kissing. Donally had his head so far up some people's asses, and people had their heads so far up his ass, Brittany wasn't sure where anyone began and ended.

Instead of lurking near the bar, Brittany picked up some food at a buffet and found a table in the corner. No matter how many times she won and attended parties for her own victories, she always felt out of place.

Her seat in the corner gave her a decent view into the "VIP" section, where 98 percent of the guests were dying to be but didn't have access to, and where she had access to but couldn't care less about being. She was not startled to find the woman in the red dress she had met in the bathroom sitting in the closed off section. Brittany felt a pang – of something, she wasn't sure what – at the sight of a slick looking man in a suit with his hand on the woman's thigh, a drink in his other hand.

He was talking animatedly to Gonzaga, who, like all other boxers who lost a match, still had to attend the party. Donally had explained that the board thought it enforced camaraderie. Brittany had bitten her tongue to stop from laughing and snapping back that camaraderie wasn't something that could typically be "enforced". She watched Gonzaga clutch his side after a short outburst of laughter and the memory of a solid jab to his ribs made her smile with grim satisfaction.

The woman looked bored with the conversation and took a long swig of her drink. Her eyes fell on Brittany watching her from across the room. Even through the dim lighting, Brittany felt rich brown eyes return her curious gaze and she couldn't look away. The boxer took a sip of her soda before finally looking down at her food. She could walk right into VIP and talk to her if she really wanted to. She could get her name, if she really wanted to. But the idea of seeing Gonzaga right after she kicked his ass held her to her seat. And the unknown man with his hand nearly up the woman's skirt didn't help, either.

Tentatively she looked up and found the woman still watching her, until the man next to her addressed her, forcing her to look away. Brittany already didn't like the guy. Whether it was because of the way he looked, or the fact that he was a fan of Gonzaga's, or the way he whispered in the woman's ear making her smile suggestively; she was still unsure.

"What a surprise, hiding in the corner again?" Wes snarked as he sat down next to Brittany. She looked up, shaken from her thoughts.

"Ha, ha," she mocked, rolling her eyes. "You are soooo funny, Wes."

The older man grinned and followed Brittany's previous line of vision towards the VIP section.

"Who is she?" Brittany asked before she could stop herself.

Wes smiled, still looking towards the plush chairs the three were sitting in. He turned back to face the blonde. Brittany fought to keep a neutral face as her insides churned, practically screaming for information.

"I can't remember his name…he's some uppity political hopeful, probably doing shady business on the side, if this city's past politicians are any indication." Wes put a finger to his lips, trying to recall what he knew. "And I'm pretty sure she's a Lopez."

"Lopez, like the senator?" Brittany asked.

"Like the senator, yes. I believe she's George Lopez's daughter."

Brittany sat back in her chair and ran a hand through smooth hair. The only thing this information seemed to do besides give her a last name was build an impenetrable wall around the woman in the red dress. Brittany had no qualms about the man the woman seemed attached to, but being the daughter of a senator, the daughter of a senator whose platform was practically based on heterosexual privilege, made her seem that much more untouchable. Her thoughts were broken again by Wes' voice.

"You want me to introduce you? I remembered her name at least. Santana. She's a hard one to forget," Wes smiled knowingly at his friend. Brittany could mask her best boxing moves while in the ring, but once the gloves were off she was an open book.

Santana Lopez, Brittany turned the name over in her mind. It sounded like a name she had known forever, yet the woman seemed as distant to her as the moon. She looked over at the VIP section just in time to see the woman stand up and head towards the bar.

"No," she answered Wes without taking her eyes off the woman. "And I'm getting a drink," she pushed back from the table and strode determinedly towards the bar, ignoring Wes' protests.

**/**

At the counter Brittany lost her nerve and ordered a soda. She really didn't want to risk fucking her body up, at least not anymore than it already was after a tough fight.

"Please tell me there's something in that," Santana smirked as she sat down on the stool next to Brittany. The blonde grinned sheepishly.

"Ice?" She offered. Santana laughed, sending the small butterflies in Brittany's stomach into a frenzy. Santana sipped from her glass. "I've got enough painkillers running through me to take down a horse; I can't really have a drink. I'm Brittany, by the way." Brittany held out her hand, chiding herself for the way she ran her words together when she got nervous.

Santana smiled at the gesture. "I know," she said smoothly, taking Brittany's hand. Brittany's cheeks flushed at the recognition. Santana's hand felt like cream compared to Brittany's tough skin, worn from years of abuse. Santana held their grip a second longer.

"I'm Santana," she replied before dropping her hand to her lap. "Also, can I just say, and you can't repeat this to Ricky, but I am so glad you beat the shit out of that Gonzaga guy. He's obnoxious and hasn't stopped staring at my tits all night." She took another swig of her drink. Brittany's eyes widened and she made sure to keep them level with Santana's, even though she found herself unable to blame her opponent.

Before she had a chance to ask who Ricky was, the man Santana had been with earlier sidled up to them, easily slipping an arm low around the woman's waist. She jumped a little but smiled when he leaned in and nibbled at her neck.

"Ricky, stop!" she laughed as the man's playful attack increased. He smiled and Brittany could tell he was drunk. Santana pushed Ricky away and he stood up fully, puffing out his chest in what Brittany imagined to be his naturally obnoxious gusto.

"Ricky baby, this is Brittany. Brittany, this is Ricky Betto."

Brittany's eyes flickered from Santana's to Ricky's. The man extended his hand and Brittany took it. They shook slowly, and Brittany met Ricky's penetrating gaze head on. He was a broad shouldered guy with dark hair and tan skin that could easily be a result of sitting in a tanning salon on a regular basis. His eyes were a surprising green and his handshake was firm. There was a large watch on his wrist that screamed money, and his suit seemed fresh from the tailor.

"So you're the fox who beat my boy Gonzaga, eh? You've got quite a nasty swing." Ricky said slowly, already looking away to motion for another drink from the bartender.

"That's me," Brittany said softly, unable to understand how one person could make her feel so grimy within seconds of meeting. She felt Santana eyeing her and kept her own gaze trained on her soda.

When the bartender took too long with his drink, Ricky waved him off and stepped back from the bar. "Let's go babe, you look uncomfortable in that dress..."

Brittany choked on her drink and turned towards the bar for a napkin. Santana hit Ricky in the chest as he leaned in towards her. "You are such a pig, Ricardo! Imagine if my father heard you."

Santana stood up to smooth her dress before linking an arm with Ricky's. Brittany turned to face them. Ricky wore a smug smile that seemed to be directed at her. She felt her face grow hot and deliciously violent images of her rearranging his face crossed her mind. The visions were quickly interrupted by a soft hand on her knee.

"It was a pleasure chatting," Santana smiled warmly, and Brittany easily accepted her unspoken apology for the man beside her. Brittany just nodded and raised her glass as the couple turned and retreated towards the lobby.

Fuck, she wanted a drink.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sure, there have been injuries and deaths in boxing - but none of them serious." -Alan Minter

The following week went by uneventfully. Brittany spent most of her time at the gym, training, working out, and sparring with her colleagues to get ready for her next match on Saturday afternoon. She was fighting a female fighter, some unknown with a decent record. No one seemed particularly worried, but that didn't keep Wes from working her to the bone.

Thursday night when he finally blew the whistle, Brittany fell to the nearest bench and ripped her gloves from her hands. Her sports bra was soaked through and her chest heaved, making her muscles twitch as she caught her breathe and grabbed for her water bottle.

"Go home and shower, you reek." Wes made a face and Brittany squirted water at him. She stood slowly, not wanting to let her body get stiff, and slipped on her baggy sweatpants and hoodie. Brittany didn't linger long, but said goodbye to the few people still in the gym as she headed for the door.

A few blocks down the street, a dark town car pulled up in front of her at the corner and the back window rolled down. A chiseled face peered out at her, dimly lit by the streetlight. Brittany was not all that surprised to find it was Ricky Betto. She would have laughed out loud at his Godfather-esque appearance if it hadn't been so late and she hadn't been so exhausted. He gave her a falsely chipper smile and waved her over.

As she approached the car, Ricky opened the door and moved over, allowing Brittany to get in easily. She closed the door behind her and the driver pulled away from the curb smoothly. As they drove she wondered if it had been stupid to get into the car so quickly, but she reminded herself that even though Ricky was acting like he was in one, they weren't in a movie.

"Where are we going?" Brittany asked.

"Just giving you a lift home," Ricky responded. Brittany made to ask how he knew where she lived, but Ricky cut her off.

"Listen, Brittany, I'm going to make this short and sweet. I have a business proposition for you, one that I think you'll find immensely beneficial. Let's say it's planning for you and your family's future. You have a younger sister, am I correct?"

Brittany hadn't been truly worried until this point. She nodded and then realized the nod might not be visible in the darkness of the car. "Yeah," she managed.

"Well, this deal I've got for you could be a real cushion in your piggy bank. And it's easy, really. So simple." Ricky looked at her and she could feel his green eyes hone in on her. "All you have to do - is lose."

Brittany wrinkled her nose. The words didn't register. Lose what? Ricky motioned towards the driver in the rearview and he pulled over. Brittany looked outside and realized they were at the end of her street.

"Lose?"

"Yes. Lose." Ricky seemed impatient, like the concept had been explained a million times before and everyone else understood instantly. "If you lose your match on Saturday against the Canadian girl, you will find a nice envelope of cash, twenty five thousand dollars - to be precise, tucked into your gym bag in your locker."

"And what if I win?"

Ricky sighed, exasperated. "No. You don't win. If you throw this match, if you lose purposely, you will find the money in your bag." He looked at the digital clock on the dashboard. "Listen babe, I gotta run. Think it over, I'll be in touch before the match. Twenty five grand sounds nice though, doesn't it? Cash."

Brittany blinked slowly before realizing she was supposed to get out of the car. She grabbed her duffel and stepped onto the street, closing the car door lamely behind her. It pulled silently from the curb and was gone. She walked slowly towards her apartment, wondering if that had really just happened.

Why did Ricky want her to lose? Why did he want her to lose badly enough to offer her twenty five thousand dollars, which was a small fortune to her and clearly chump change to him? What did he have to gain? Brittany's mind wandered as she showered. She pictured Donally and Wes. They clearly must have no clue this was happening. Or did they? She pictured Santana. Did she know her...boyfriend was such a creep?

Brittany toweled off and pulled on a baggy t-shirt and shorts before slipping into bed. She pictured Kait. How had Ricky known about her? This really was some mafia-like shit she knew she did not want to get into.

But twenty five thousand dollars would do a hell of a lot for Kait. Brittany didn't need anything; Donally pretty much took care of her, and even her mother and Kait's basic needs. And that's why she had started boxing in the first place. She put her meager salary towards food and the bare necessities, but Brittany was going to put Kait through college even if she had to start funneling all her winnings into the savings account she had started for her sister. Brittany barely made it through high school, and with boxing taking over her life, college was never in the picture. She didn't want that for Kait.

The idea of throwing a match sat like a stone in her stomach as she rolled over. She'd never really cared about her record but she always fought till the bell rang or till someone hit the ground. And winning was fun. Losing on purpose just did not fit in Brittany's repertoire. But the nagging thought of twenty five thousand dollars, which could all be deposited into Kait's account, also danced around her mind.

Brittany fell into a restless sleep, her whole body still tense from the encounter with Ricky.

* * *

"Wes, I'll be out in one sec!" Brittany called in response to the knock on the door. There was another knock. "Jesus," Brittany muttered to herself, before tucking her gloves under her arm and moving towards the door. She ripped the door open, lips parted and ready to bitch at Wes.

"I'm heading for the ring n-" Brittany met Ricky Betto's cool stare and the words died in her throat. Santana had an arm linked with his and gave Brittany a small smile. Betto was wearing a crisp grey suit and Santana was in a tight black dress with svelte knee high boots. Brittany's stomach flipped and she wasn't sure if it was the sight of Ricky or Santana that made her nervous.

"Brittany! Good to see you. You look ready to go," Ricky greeted in a falsely cheerful tone. His eyes were cold as they ran over Brittany's taped fists, exposed arms, and tight white tank top. He met her narrowed eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

"How're you feeling about the match today?" He boomed loudly. It seemed like he was shouting. Brittany looked over his shoulder, but the people walking around in the open area underneath the arena seemed to be paying their conversation no attention. She tucked a wispy bang that escaped her ponytail behind her ear. Brittany felt Santana watching her curiously, and she realized the whole arena could be watching this conversation and it would only be the woman in front of her that would make her nervous.

"Feeling good, feeling good," Brittany nodded. She wanted to say as little as possible. The wrinkle in Santana's brow only made Brittany sure of the fact that she had no idea her boyfriend was bribing her, and that he probably had bribed others. Brittany met Ricky's gaze, silently telling him her answer. He seemed to understand, and Brittany didn't hesitate to close her changing room door behind her and squeeze past the couple. She heard Santana ask what that was about, but was too far away by the time Ricky gave an answer.

The dim roar of the crowd washed over Brittany as she walked through the entrance tunnel. She pulled her gloves on and stuck her hands out as Wes approached to allow him to lace them tightly. Brittany ignored his questions and closed her eyes as she sat down in the corner of the ring. The warning bell rang. She inhaled deeply, nodding silently as Wes gave her a final pat on the shoulder before stepping out of the ring. This match wasn't her biggest. The stadium had sold out, but attendance was down. There was nothing special about her opponent. Yet Brittany felt more self-conscious than she ever had before knowing that Ricky's eyes were trained on her, following her every move from the special box seats she had discovered belonged to Senator Lopez. She briefly wondered how many matches of hers Santana had seen before from that very box, but shook the thought quickly as it only made her stomach twist even more.

The starting bell rang and Brittany stood slowly before approaching the center of the ring with nothing but the static noise of the crowd in her ears.

* * *

Brittany smiled to herself through gritted teeth. Her knees were numb, breathing was a difficult task reduced to quick and shallow breaths, and her left cheek had swollen to make her look like a lopsided chipmunk. Her smile quickly fell as she gripped the toilet again and dry heaved; there was nothing left for her stomach to give. Her hair fell around her face and she pushed it back with one hand.

She fell back to the side, resting against the cold tile wall to give her knees a break. She hadn't been this beat in years, maybe not even since the first time she "sparred" with Wes. Brittany let out a bitter laugh at herself. She was amazed she wasn't in the hospital right now. Wes had asked her after the match if she wanted to go, but an icy stare through a quickly bruising eye had silenced him.

Though Wes didn't know it, Brittany had just let herself get mauled for what she was sure was dirty money, and she wasn't about to let the pain go away that easily. She didn't know when she got so self-righteous, but it was apparently something that had happened over time, yet still wasn't enough to stop her from taking Ricky's offer in the first place. The crisp bills tucked in a thick envelope sitting in the duffel in her locker after the fight had made her smile and tear up at the same time. She reminded herself it was for Kait.

Now the bag sat in her apartment, and she was sitting on the bathroom floor of the hotel that was hosting tonight's party. Her opponent was probably out in the ballroom talking about how it was an easy fight. Shaking her head at how 'poor Pierce' just didn't stand a chance.

The door to the bathroom swung open and Brittany sniffed, a sudden wave of nausea hitting her and forcing her back over the toilet.  _Fuck_ , she moaned internally, unable to stop the dry heaving that wracked her body again.

"Hello?" A voice called out tentatively.  _Really?_  Brittany cursed silently at whatever higher power got her here, whether it was a god or, more likely, the devil. She heard the sharp click of heels approach the stall. "Are you okay?"

Brittany cleared her burning throat and let out a meager "yeah", hoping this would send Santana about her business, but instead of the retreating sound of heels Brittany heard "Do you need anything?"

The blonde groaned, knowing she had to come out of the stall eventually. She didn't know if Santana realized it was her, but she didn't think so. Brittany stood slowly but her muscles still screamed in pain. Wiping the back of her mouth with her hand she swallowed hard and unlatched the door. Brittany laughed sharply as Santana let out a small scream and stepped back.

"Shit, it's not that bad, is it?" Brittany moved past her to the mirror over the sinks. Her face was pretty swollen, and even with the makeup the bruising under her eye showed through. Brittany heard Santana mumble something under her breath in what she assumed was Spanish as she grabbed Brittany's arm and turned her around.

"Ow!" Brittany grimaced. Santana ignored the cry and stared at Brittany intensely, raking over her face and down the rest of her body with hard brown eyes, taking in every bruise and cut.

"I saw you get your ass kicked out there tonight, but Jesus, look at you..." Santana shook her head, bringing a hand up to Brittany's face. Brittany flinched as Santana trailed her fingers gently over her bruised cheek. Her breath hitched at the contact and she allowed herself to momentarily forget the fact that she had purposely lost the match, that she was a quarter of a hundred grand richer, that it was the woman in front of hers boyfriend that was responsible for all of it. She allowed herself to focus on the tender fingers cupping her swollen cheek, the way Santana's eyes met hers and held them there, the way her heart was pounding erratically in her chest.

"What happened out there?" Santana asked quietly, her hand still resting gently on Brittany's cheek. Brittany brought her hand up and covered Santana's. The moment was so intimate Brittany didn't dare push her luck and speak. She only shook her head slightly, hoping Santana would drop the question. She could feel her cheeks flush but held Santana's gaze, which seemed to look past her, into her. Their proximity added a tension Brittany couldn't place.

Then the door swung open and the moment shattered, both women separating as if they had been shoved apart. The woman who came in took no notice of them and the fact that Brittany was fiddling with the sink and Santana was rummaging through her purse, both breathing as if they had just done sprints. When the woman entered the stall Santana turned to say something, but Brittany brushed past her towards the door.

"I have to go. Thanks," she tossed over her shoulder, although she wasn't sure what for. She needed to get out of there, because Santana may not have meant anything with her touch other than concern, but Brittany's body was on fire and she needed to distance herself before she did anything stupid. She could still smell Santana's perfume and it was making her dizzier than she already felt from the match.

If Santana protested her abrupt exit, Brittany didn't hear it; she was down the hall in a few brisk strides. She got her coat from the coat check and slipped out of the hotel without interference. The wind was biting as she walked towards her apartment, but her cheek still tingled from where Santana's fingers had been.

* * *

Brittany spent the week with her mother and sister. Well, the parts of the week that she wasn't training for her next match. Ricky had contacted her again, telling her she needed to win this week. She hadn't realized this was going to be a more-than-one-time thing, which she realized may have been naïve on her part.

She was happy she had to win this time at least. She'd have been happier about the news if it didn't still sound like a threat. She'd have been happier if her body wasn't still feeling like she'd been run over by a truck from her loss. But she took the instructions and the new offer (this time of 30,000 dollars) and swallowed whatever pride she had left.

Now Brittany turned her energy towards not grimacing when Kait jumped on her back at the zoo, to ignoring her mother's questioning looks at her swollen cheek. They knew she lost last week, but there was no way they would ever know just how badly. As they walked back home, Brittany kept reminding herself of the most recent statement she had gotten from the account she opened in Kait's name.

Her thoughts also drifted back to the bathroom of the hotel, back to Santana's hand on her cheek. If she concentrated hard enough, Brittany could still feel everything from that moment - the pads of Santana's fingers, the near mournful way deep brown eyes flickered over her face, the way her own heart tried to flee from her ribcage.

"Britt!"

She jerked out of her thoughts to find her mother and sister standing in front of their apartment building, looking at her expectantly.

"You are such a space cadet today," her mother shook her head, brow creased with worry. Brittany smiled and hugged Kait, giving her a gentle noogie before pulling away.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor?" Her mother suggested softly as they hugged goodbye.

"I'm fine, Mom," Brittany answered, trying not to sound annoyed. Her mother only frowned.

Brittany waved goodbye as her mother led Kait back into their building. She turned to walk back to her place, a wave of relief crashing over her as she let her body relax. It was a performance, what she did for her mother and sister.  _It's all a performance_ , she thought darkly as she made her way back to her building. For her family, for Wes, for Donally, and now for Ricky - everything was a different performance, and the weight of all her characters was finally taking it's toll.

* * *

Brittany discovered nothing tainted a strong victory like one Ricky Betto. She didn't even see him before or during the match, but his presence in the back of her mind was enough to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. The ref held her hand up in victory after the third round bell rang and she wished she was anywhere else. The fight had been easy; her female opponent was smaller and moved like she hadn't been in the ring in a while.

Afterwards Wes walked with her towards her locker room and they talked about the match. Brittany smiled for Wes, who spoke animatedly, excited by Brittany's dominant win. He gave her an affectionate punch on the shoulder before letting her head into the locker room to shower and get ready for the winner's party. Brittany groaned about the party, and Wes scolded her playfully over his shoulder, saying he'd let her have a drink for winning.

She showered slowly, in no hurry to go home and wait for the make-up artist. After the hot water started faltering, Brittany got out and wrapped herself in her towel. She opened her locker and found a note sitting on top of her duffel. Before she read the note, she peeked into her bag and saw a thick envelope, exactly like the last time.  _How the fuck does he get it here so fast?_  She wondered as she sat down with the paper and opened the folded crease.

Written in a looping scrawl was an address with a sentence that read "Won't be bumping elbows with you in the bathroom tonight, but maybe we can get a drink? -S". Brittany turned it over, but there was nothing else on it. Skipping a winner's party was not something that had ever crossed her mind to do before, and she couldn't imagine Donally being very pleased. But images of talking with Santana over drinks in some low key bar flooded Brittany's brain, and after she quickly threw on an extra pair of jeans and a sweater she kept in her bag before slipping out of the locker room. The arena always cleared out quickly after a match, and Brittany was thankful for that as she moved briskly towards a door that would let her out onto a quiet side street.

Once out in the cool night air, Brittany walked to the corner and hailed a cab.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As much as I love boxing, I hate it. And as much as I hate it, I love it." -Budd Schulberg

Brittany pushed her way through the small bar. The maximum capacity couldn't have been more than 50 people, and she was pretty sure it was packed past that. Her eyes scanned the room for Santana, but she didn't see her anywhere.  _Next step, phone number_ , Brittany thought to herself as she ordered a beer from the bartender. She ignored the voice in the back of her head (that sounded suspiciously like Wes) warning her to watch her drinking. She had taken some painkillers, but nowhere near enough to interfere with the alcohol.

Moving towards an available patch of wall, Brittany kept on the lookout for Santana. It wasn't until the lights dimmed and a spotlight focused on the small stage that Brittany realized why she hadn't seen her.

Santana was on the stage, adjusting the mic so it was level with her lips as she sat on a bar stool. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as her eyes scanned the crowd. Brittany raised her hand in acknowledgement, but didn't know if Santana could see past the glare the spotlight put on her. Someone started playing a piano tucked in the corner near the stage, and Santana picked up on the beat with a slow song Brittany didn't recognize.

The song danced around Brittany slowly; Santana's voice warmed her yet sent chills down her spine at the same time. Brittany sipped her beer but couldn't take her eyes off the woman, raw and vulnerable on stage as she poured herself into the song. Santana performed a medley of sorts and at the end she received a hearty round of applause and wolf whistles. Brittany put her empty bottle down and clapped loudly as Santana took a small bow and headed off stage towards the bar, smiling and shaking hands with other patrons as they fawned over her.

"Well then..." Brittany said as she wheedled her way up to the bar where Santana was ordering a drink. "Yeah, I'm just speechless," Brittany shrugged, motioning to the bartender for another beer.

Santana laughed, a light flush covering her cheeks. "Oh, stop it" she rolled her eyes as she put down money for her drink and Brittany's.

"And now you're paying for my drink," Brittany threw up a hand. "Okay, I give up."

"I think your pain meds are making you loopy," Santana laughed before taking a sip from her drink.

"No, it's the pain meds  _and_  the alcohol that are doing that," Brittany deadpanned. She smiled and shook her head before Santana could protest. "I'm fine, I won, remember? Didn't take too much abuse this time." Her thoughts fell back on the match she had lost (or more accurately, the match she threw), but Santana put her hand on her arm and brought her attention back to the present.

"Thanks for coming," she said, her voice rising just enough to cover the music the bar had begun playing.

"Of course," Brittany took a long swig from her beer. She didn't want to ask why Santana had invited her in the first place for fear of making things uncomfortable, she was just happy it had happened. She also didn't mention all the shit she'd be in for completely blowing off her winner's party to be here. "Glad to bump into you in a setting outside a hotel bathroom." Brittany paused, ignoring how that could sound not so great. "How long have you been singing?"

Santana chuckled to herself, almost ruefully. "Well, I've been singing since I was four, but I don't know if I'd call the rare performance in a rundown bar, while using a pseudonym to protect my identity, and more importantly-" Santana rolled her eyes at that "-my father's, 'singing'." She looked down into her drink before gulping down the last bit and motioning to the bartender for another.

"So...your dad doesn't know you sing? Does Ricky know?" Brittany frowned slightly.

"Well, my dad knows I  _can_ sing. I grew up with him complimenting my voice, telling me I sounded better than the angels." She laughed bitterly. "And Ricky doesn't know. The most he hears is me singing in the shower, and now, ironically, he's too busy dealing with my father to notice if I actually sound good or not."

"You should surround yourself with people who support what you love," Brittany said, more solemn than she meant to be, and realizing she might be out of line. She bit her lip and stared at the row of bottles along the back of the bar, not risking meeting Santana's dark eyes.

"I never said I loved singing," Santana said shortly.

"So you just sneak into bars and do it because you hate it?"  _What the fuck, Pierce?_  Brittany kicked herself mentally.  _Real smooth_.

"And you get the shit kicked out of you because you love it, right?" Santana was staring at Brittany, her face emotionless. Brittany met her hard stare.

"It's different," she said roughly. The women paused, retreating to their drinks, both aware of the tension that had built between them.

"I love the things I box for," Brittany said after a moment. "The people I box for." Images of Kait and her mother flooded her already fuzzy thoughts. Santana nodded slightly.

"I'll drink to that. Actually, I'll take shots to that," she motioned for the bartender and ordered two shots.

"Let me pay this time," Brittany laughed, pulling a few dollars from her pocket, just glad that the tension seemed to be broken. They clinked glasses and tossed the liquor back, both looking back at each other with scrunched faces.

"Shots will never not burn," Brittany smacked her lips together before taking a sip of her beer, trying to get the taste out of her mouth.

"Toughen up there, Miss Boxer!" Santana punched Brittany's arm playfully. Brittany feigned pain, causing Santana to toss her head back with raucous laughter.

The night went smoothly after that, and quickly. They each had one more drink, making them last longer than the other rounds had. Brittany noticed she was a bit drunk when she got up to pee at one point. She also noticed the way Santana would rest her hand on her thigh when she leaned in to talk over the music, making her muscle twitch under pale skin and her stomach flip.

Eventually the two of them made their way out of the bar. Santana said she lived just a few blocks away, and Brittany said she'd walk her back. They walked in comfortable silence, and every so often Santana would veer into Brittany, causing her to laugh before gently righting the other woman. Santana only protested that she wasn't drunk, and Brittany would say "We're both drunk, but you don't see  _meee_  veering off in a crooked line."

"You're so drunk you couldn't punch the side of an apartment building," Santana teased.

Brittany promptly walked towards the nearest building a few feet off the sidewalk and lightly hit the brick wall with her fist. "Ow," she stated, drawing her hand back towards her chest. Santana snorted and pulled Brittany back towards her and across the street.

"You're silly," She mumbled as she led Brittany up the front stairs of a tall apartment building. Brittany smiled, sure that "silly" was not a word Santana Lopez used often. Brittany found it was somehow easier to ignore the pain in her hand with the woman in front of her teasing her.

Santana turned around and pushed her hands into her jacket pockets, searching for her keys. Brittany stepped closer, feeling the butterflies in her stomach kick up into a frenzy.

"I had fun tonight," she said, smiling as she watched Santana feel for her keys.

"Aha!" Santana pulled the keys victoriously from her right pocket. "Oh, yeah, me too," Santana grinned as her fingers curled around her keys. Her eyes flickered from Brittany's down to her lips. The look didn't go unnoticed by Brittany, and before she could stop herself she leaned forward.

Santana mimicked the motion, but they both froze halfway, their breaths coming in short puffs, visible between them in the cold night air. Santana's eyes were hooded, and Brittany silently asked her brain to stop thinking for one second before tilting her head forward once more, this time closing the gap and placing her lips softly on Santana's. It was barely a kiss, but Brittany's body hummed with an energy unlike anything she'd felt before.

Santana exhaled sharply through her nose before pressing into Brittany, the hand that didn't have the keys in them finding its way around her neck. Brittany put her hands on Santana's waist, pulling her closer as their mouths opened against each other's, as Santana's tongue pushed into Brittany's mouth hungrily. Her stomach flipped at Santana's eagerness and she stepped forward, pressing them up against the wall next to the glass door of her apartment building.

Brittany greedily swallowed a moan that slipped from Santana's mouth and rocked her hips forward instinctively. She allowed herself to mentally step back for a second and enjoy the fact that this was actually happening before she lost herself again in Santana's embrace. She sucked Santana's bottom lip between hers, nipping it gently with her teeth.

The dull growl of an engine behind them brought Santana's hands to Brittany's chest, separating them gently but urgently. They were both breathing hard, chests rising and falling quickly. Brittany kept her hands on Santana's waist but looked over her shoulder at the car that turned the corner onto the street. She held her breath, almost expecting the car to pull over, for men with cameras and microphones to jump out and swarm them. But the car did not stop, and Brittany turned back towards Santana, a small smile on her face as she bit her bottom lip.

Her smile faltered when she saw Santana's face. It wasn't anger, but she was definitely upset. Not even upset, Brittany decided, but thoughtful. Introspection tinged with anxiety. Brittany removed her hands from Santana's waist and returned them to her pockets. The loss of contact made Santana look up from her daze.

"I - you should go," her eyes were soft, her brow furrowed slightly. Even as her words told her to leave, she raised a hand to Brittany's face, cupping her cheek and running a thumb over her cheekbone. Brittany nodded into her hand before taking it and lowering it between them. They lingered there for a moment until Brittany turned quickly, dropping Santana's hand and retreating down the front steps of her apartment building. She walked briskly down the street, managing to resist the urge to look back over her shoulder at the woman she was sure was already in the elevator by now.

* * *

"Where the fuck were you?" Donally threw his hands up in the air with the question. Brittany stood in front of his desk, looking at the floor like she was back in kindergarten being scolded for making a mess with her glue stick. Donally was pissed, but not pissed enough to get up out of the squishy office chair he was leaning back in. Brittany looked at his reddened face, reminding herself not to stare at the floor when she spoke.

"I didn't feel well. I went home."

"Of course you didn't fucking feel well, you just finished a fucking boxing match!" Donally snapped forward, his fists coming down on his desk. Brittany shrugged. "And don't tell me you went home, because your make-up artist called me and said you weren't answering the door."

Brittany's stomach dropped.  _Shit_. "I meant to my mom's apartment. That home. Sorry, still call it home sometimes, even though I'm living in the  _lap_  of luxury in the place you gave me," Brittany rolled her eyes, back on the offensive after scrambling to fix her error.

Donally muttered angrily under his breath and Brittany waited for his next outburst. "Alright, whatever. But I swear to fucking God don't pull this shit again. The only reason you miss a party is if you're in a fucking coma. And even then..." he trailed off before waving his hand at her dismissively. "That's your cue to get out of here," Donally grunted.

Brittany didn't waste another second and moved towards the door. Glad to be out from under Donally's questions, she retreated to the back of the gym where Wes was waiting for her. He tossed her weighted gloves at her, which she caught against her chest. She winced but ignored the soreness her muscles ached with. She was used to practicing the day after a match, and at least today was one of the easier practices to stomach.

"So where were you last night?"

Brittany ignored him and sat down to wrap her hands with tape before she pulled her gloves on. She flexed her fingers and ignored the look she knew Wes was giving her. Finally she stood, flexing her taped fingers as she pulled her gloves on.

"Are you gonna help me get these on?" She finally looked at him, holding her hands out. He shook his head.

"Where were you?"

"I went h-"

"Bullshit," he cut over her. He stepped forward to help her get her gloves on fully. "C'mon, Brittany. You can pull this shit with Donally, because let's face it, he doesn't actually want to know." He paused. "I won't tell him, you know, and that should go without saying but I'll say it anyway." Brittany just rolled her eyes and didn't answer. Wes pouted, causing Brittany to laugh. Suddenly Wes' eyes went wide. "No...this doesn't have anything to do with that Lopez girl, does it?"

Her silence was enough of an answer for him. It was his turn to roll his eyes. He shook his head as they moved over to the thick punching bag hanging in the corner. "Britt, you gotta be careful with this one," Wes chided gently as he took his position behind the bag. "Her father's got no shortage of power and pull, and he's no 'friend of Dorothy's'."

"Well, she is," Brittany quipped, throwing a gloved hand over her mouth the second the words were out. Wes threw his head back in a sharp bark of laughter before he lunged forward and pushed her playfully in the shoulder.

"No way!"

Brittany swiped at him and he ducked back behind the bag. She told him about her evening in between rounds of punches - about Santana's singing, their drinks, and their more than friendly goodbye. She kept the details to herself, but managed to paint a decent picture, and Wes made a surprisingly good audience. Brittany realized she never had much to tell him - their conversations were usually kept to boxing or their respective families.

By the end of her training session Wes was asking her if she would take Santana's last name and if he could be her best man at the wedding. Brittany kicked out at him and told him to zip it before she took a real shot at him. Wes pursed his lips and mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key. Brittany smiled despite herself and pulled her gloves off. It was getting dark outside and her stomach was growling.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She asked as she gathered her things.

"Yeah. You can even come in a little late if you want," Wes wiggled his eyebrows and grinned as if this was the most generous offer she'd ever heard. Brittany raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Yup, my treat," he continued. "Have a good night, lover girl!"

Brittany pulled her sweatshirt on and ignored the faces Wes made at her as she headed towards the door. She grinned to herself on her walk home, amused that her adult male boxing coach was secretly a bit of a 13 year old girl at heart.

**/**

Once showered and in fresh pajamas, Brittany poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat at the small table in her living room. She flipped open the newspaper that got delivered to her mailbox even though she hadn't subscribed to it. Brittany assumed whoever lived here before her never got it cancelled. When she thought about it, she realized she never asked Donally about who lived here before her. She assumed it had been another boxer because she doubted Donally picked up an apartment just for her, but when she thought about it some more, she decided she didn't want to know why the person was no longer living there. Whether they fell from his good graces or met some other fate, neither were her business.

Typically she made a beeline for the comics, but a headline caught her eye. "Mayor-Hopeful Betto Makes Friends In High Places" Brittany read under her breath as she scanned the article. It was more of a blurb than an actual news piece and was accompanied by a picture of Ricky shaking hands with Senator George Lopez. The article gave short bios of both men and noted that they've been getting a lot of face time with each other.

Brittany continued on to the comics but her mind lingered on Ricky. The more she dwelled on the man, the more she wanted out of their "little" arrangement. She had already raked in 55,000 dollars relatively quickly. Kait wasn't even in high school yet; half a hundred grand was a hell of a start for her college tuition. She also considered Wes and Donally. She hated lying to them; particularly to Wes, who always had her back. If she broke this thing with Betto off, she could tuck the two tainted matches away and move on, relieving some if not all of her guilt. They'd never have to know.

And of course, there was Santana. As if their relationship wasn't already complicated enough, Brittany didn't want to be "working" for Santana's boyfriend in any form. Especially not if she was going to attempt to kiss his girlfriend again. Brittany's heart jolted as she flashed back to the note on her bag in her locker after her last fight. The cash had been under the note...had Santana seen it? Brittany's mind raced but she soothed herself when she came to the conclusion that Santana had acted too calmly, (and intimately, she smirked) to have seen an envelope filled with cash. She stood up from the table and put her bowl in the sink before she headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Exhausted from the day, Brittany flopped onto her bed and pulled the covers over herself. Her head hurt from thinking of all the tricky relationships she'd managed to create for herself in a relatively short period of time. She rubbed her eyes and groaned, suddenly annoyed with how quiet her apartment was.

 _I have time tomorrow morning to find his office and go talk to him_ , she thought. Brittany rolled over and tucked herself deeper in her blankets. She realized she had no idea on how to really contact Ricky otherwise - he had always found her. Her body and mind instantly relaxed with her newfound plan. She'd look his info up online at the library first thing in the morning, and then she'd go over and talk to him. She didn't let the nagging idea that the talking might be the difficult part settle into her mind.

Content with her plan, Brittany fluffed her pillows once before closing her eyes, easily letting sleep wash over her.

* * *

Betto's office was on the third floor of a building near city hall. It was a modest office building, newly built and brightly lit. Brittany took the elevator and stepped out into a small lobby with an empty receptionist's desk. She frowned and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 10 a.m., people should be in the office already. There was a jacket hanging on the back of the receptionist's chair and Brittany noticed the screen saver bouncing around lazily on the computer screen. It was oddly quiet, but Brittany attributed that to the fact that it was a small office. People were definitely here.

She walked past the reception area and down a short hallway where she spotted a closed door with "Ricardo Betto" embossed on a small plaque on the wall next to it. Brittany stood in front of the door debating if she should knock or just open it. She moved to grab the doorknob and just burst in, figuring it would give her the momentum to be stern and end things swiftly, but she heard voices and froze.

They were muted from behind the door and she leaned as close as she could to try and hear who it was.

"Oh...baby...uh...fuck!"

Brittany recoiled sharply, her face contorting in disgust. Was that really what she thought that was? She leaned back towards the door and listened to what were definitely the moans of people having sex. She turned and walked briskly back up the hall towards the lobby, shaking away the images of Ricky and Santana going at it on his desk. She passed the secretary's desk and pushed the elevator button repeatedly.

 _Wait_. She turned back to the receptionist's empty chair and cursed under her breath as it hit her.  _The little sleazebag_ , Brittany thought darkly as she turned back to continue hitting the down arrow. Impatient and wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, Brittany found the stairs.  _Really original, nailing your secretary_ , she continued seething as she reached the ground floor.

Across the main lobby Brittany spotted Santana about to get into an elevator. She nearly tripped over herself as she ran to where the woman was standing, not thinking about all the consequences that were attached to the action.

"Don't go up there," she blurted, the words flying past her lips before her brain could think of a better option.

Santana jumped. "Jesus, Brittany, what are you doing here?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at Brittany, her soft brown eyes questioning. "And why shouldn't I…"

Brittany just shook her head, her heart pounding in her throat as she fumbled for words. Suddenly recognition dawned on Santana's face. Brittany felt her heart crumple as the saddest look she'd ever seen flitted across Santana's features. The look passed instantaneously, but Brittany was sure it'd been there. The woman pushed her hair back from her face before she spoke again, her expression neutral.

"The receptionist?"

Brittany opened her mouth to speak but found herself still mute. She closed her mouth and nodded.

"Yeah, I know about that little affair," Santana looked down before meeting Brittany's eyes again. "It bothered me at first, but if I'm going to be the wife of a politician, I figure I might as well get used to it."

Brittany found her voice again as the anger of a few minutes ago resurfaced. "You deserve better than that, you know," she spat hotly. Santana eyed her carefully but didn't respond. Brittany bit her bottom lip and tried to get herself to calm down before she said more things she shouldn't say.

"You still never answered my question of what you're doing here?" Santana asked slowly.

"I..."

 _Shit_. Brittany floundered for words again. Having been caught up in her mission, catching Betto, and then intercepting Santana, she hadn't given any thought to an excuse for being here in the first place. Santana's eyes narrowed as she watched Brittany struggle.

"Whatever he's offering, it's not worth it."

"I could say the same to you," Brittany replied quietly before she could stop herself. Santana's eyes blazed with something Brittany didn't recognize, but she held the woman's gaze steadily. This time Santana opened her mouth to speak but closed it after a moment's hesitation. Brittany rubbed the back of her neck, taking the pause to shuffle her feet awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, that was totally out of line," she offered, looking up at Santana meekly. She pressed on when she saw Santana's features soften slightly. "Have dinner with me." It was a statement, not a question, and Brittany held her breath, wondering if boxing was finally messing up her head. It had definitely affected her filter, she decided.

"I can't," Santana sighed, looking around the lobby at the few people moving about. Brittany sensed the hint of disappointment in her voice and decided to push her luck.

"It's just dinner." She hoped she didn't sound as desperate as she felt.

"Just dinner?" Santana raised a skeptical eyebrow. Brittany laughed and held up her right hand.

"Just dinner. Promise."

Santana pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "Alright," she agreed. "Just dinner."

Brittany's stomach swooped and she resisted the urge to pump her fist. Her stomach did another round of acrobatics as Santana pulled a pen from her purse and grabbed one of her hands. Brittany watched as she scrawled her number on her hand. When Santana pulled back, Brittany looked at her hand, making sure she could read the number.

"There," Santana smiled as she tucked the pen back in her bag.

Brittany imagined she looked like an idiot as a grin stretched her face. Santana turned to press the up arrow by the elevators again. Brittany's grin faltered as she cocked her head and pointed upwards in silent confusion. Santana just smiled wickedly as the elevator doors opened. She stepped in and turned to face Brittany.

"Don't worry, he's  _definitely_  finished by now. Call me later." Santana gave a little wave as the doors slid closed, leaving Brittany grinning wildly in the lobby.

**/**

Practice that day ended up being a bit of a nightmare. It had been a nightmare in the sense that Brittany got her butt kicked by the guy she was sparring with because her mind was back in her apartment, thinking about the phone number she had scribbled on every piece of paper she could find. She had been afraid she'd lose it if she wrote it down on just one sheet. Wes had snapped at her to focus after she took another blow to the gut. He didn't know about her interaction with Santana that morning (Brittany hadn't wanted to explain why she was in Betto's office), but knew enough about Brittany to know what, or who, was on her mind.

She had managed to make it out alive despite her distractions and now she sat on her couch holding her cheap plastic duck phone in her lap. She'd invest in a cell phone if their plans weren't so expensive and/or if they made cell phones in cool shapes like her duck-shaped land line. Brittany looked at the papers scattered around her, all of them with Santana's number written at least once. She picked one up and dialed it quickly, biting her lip as the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey. It's later. Well, it's Brittany, and you said I should call you later. So, it's later."  _Wow_ , Brittany squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly when Santana laughed.

"It is later," she agreed.

"So...I was thinking we could get dinner tomorrow?"

Santana laughed again. Brittany swore she could listen to her laugh for the rest of her life, even if she didn't know what was so damn funny.

"You don't waste any time, do you?"

"Nope. Life is short!"  _Especially a boxer's_ , Brittany bit her tongue.

"Tomorrow sounds good. When and where?"

"How about 8?"

Santana said that'd work for her, and Brittany gave her the address of a small restaurant a couple of blocks from her building. It was a hole in the wall but she figured discretion was a plus in this case, and from what she could see through the window it looked nice enough.

She managed not to babble too much while giving Santana general directions to the restaurant and they hung up, Brittany flopping to the couch as she put the receiver down. She sat there for a while, a contented smile on her face as she thought about her date. Her date with Santana Lopez. All the worries and complications attached to the both of them seemed so far away and Brittany felt grateful, knowing that that probably wouldn't last.

She stood and stretched, wincing at the pain in her side from a particularly rough hit she received during practice. Too wound up to sleep, Brittany spent the next couple of hours tidying up her room and picking out different outfits. She ended up with an even bigger pile of clothes on the floor, but she held a nice green dress up in front of her. She laughed at herself as she recalled the fact that she had been wearing the dress the first time she made out with a woman at Wes' party.

 _Nothing like a good luck charm_ , she mused to herself as she hung the dress back up in her closet. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand she saw it had gotten pretty late. She stretched and yawned instinctively, groaning as another wave of pain stung her sides. Rubbing her stomach, she padded into the bathroom to brush her teeth before she fell into bed, happily replaying the day over in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Attack is only one half of the art of boxing." -Georges Carpentier

Brittany changed her outfit three times that evening. The original green dress she had picked out lay crumpled on the floor along with most of her wardrobe. She finally settled on tight black jeans and a light blue V-neck sweater that made her boobs look great. Brittany smiled at herself in the mirror on her closet door before heading into the bathroom to put make up on.

The day had gone by too slowly. Brittany had woken with a start two hours before she had set her alarm to go off. She was used to waking up before her alarm, but this morning she had felt a nervous energy coursing through her veins before she even got out of bed. Knowing she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, she had turned her alarm off and rolled out of bed.

It was her cardio day, which meant she didn't have to go in to the gym but she still had to get in at least three hours of cardio. All the boxers in Donally's company were on the honor system when it came to their workouts outside the gym but Wes never worried that Brittany (or any of her teammates) skimped out. In a sport so physical and dependant on endurance, it was easy to notice who skipped a workout or two because they were usually the ones getting their asses handed to them in the ring.

Brittany had jogged for hours, weaving a trail through the city and even out to the suburbs. On her way back home she had stopped to visit her mother and Kait. She found Kait home alone reading - their mother was working. Brittany fell to the floor in the living room, chest still rising and falling rapidly from her run. Kait had simply flipped the page and told Brittany she reeked. They stayed like that for a while, talking occassionally until Brittany asked what time it was. Kait had mumbled it was almost 6. That had brought Brittany flying to her feet. She said a hurried goodbye and left Kait confused on the couch as she nearly ran from the apartment to get home and cleaned up before her date.

Now she gave herself one more glance in the bathroom mirror before deciding there wasn't much more that she could do, and that she actually looked pretty good. Brittany grabbed her jacket and headed downstairs and out towards the restaurant. It was a short walk from her apartment and she wanted to make sure she got there first to ensure everything was okay with her reservation.

She was early but their table was ready so the host seated her. He looked at her curiously, as if he recognized her, but Brittany avoided eye contact in hopes of him not saying anything. He didn't, and Brittany let out a small relieved breath. She could see the door from her seat and kept her eyes trained on it as she sipped her glass of water, her heart jumping in her chest every time someone walked in.

It was ten minutes past eight when Santana walked through the door. Brittany had started getting nervous that she wasn't going to show, and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when Santana arrived. The host showed Santana to their table and Brittany stood, though she didn't know why. They were in a booth so there was no chair to pull back for her, and she didn't think she could exactly kiss Santana hello. Santana just smiled and gave Brittany a little wave as she sat down across from her. Brittany grinned sheepishly and sat back down.

"Hey. Sorry I'm a little late," Santana apologized.

Brittany just shook her head mutely, causing Santana's smile to widen. Brittany cleared her throat.

"No, it's fine. You look great. Beautiful - the dress, it's beautiful," Brittany flushed and took a gulp of her water.  _Jesus Christ_.

Santana bit her bottom lip. "Thanks. So do you." She opened her mouth to say something else but closed it and pulled open her menu. Brittany did the same but took an extra second to look at Santana while she was looking down at her menu.

She really did look beautiful, but Brittany was sure the woman could wear a burlap sack and still be the most gorgeous woman in the building. Santana's hair was down, slightly curled and cascading over her shoulders. She wore a sleeveless, dark purple dress that hung loosely on her body but cinched at the waist, so it still accentuated her curves. Brittany realized she'd been staring and looked down her menu.

"So what do you recommend?" Santana asked as she looked up.

"Well...I've never been here before, so that's a good question." Brittany met Santana's gaze and found the woman smiling at her.

"Oh! Well that's fine, now it's a food adventure. I love trying new things," she returned to her menu. Brittany watched her again and grinned to herself at the way Santana's nose scrunched when she read through the menu. She was relieved that it was okay that she had never been to this restaurant before, relieved that it was okay that she stood up when Santana arrived, relieved that Santana still managed to smile at her when she stumbled over her words. She looked back down at her menu, happily scanning the entrées.

**/**

"So, if you've never been here before, how'd you find this place?" Santana watched Brittany carefully and took a sip from her wine glass. They had nearly polished off a full bottle between them. Brittany could tell her cheeks were flushed and her head felt fuzzy.  
"I live near here," Brittany shrugged as she pushed a little leftover food around on her plate with her fork.  _You're on a date, stop playing with your food_ , a voice in the back of her mind chided her. She put her fork down and pushed her plate away from her.

Dinner had been really good, both the food and the conversation. They managed to get to know each other a little better without things getting heavy. Brittany learned Santana had an older brother and that her mother divorced her father a long time ago. She learned that Santana's guilty pleasure was mint chocolate chip ice cream, and that when she was a little kid she wanted to be a veterinarian when she grew up. Brittany talked briefly about her family but quickly changed the subject when she mentioned her dad. She talked about Kait, and how they used to feed the ducks in the pond nearby when they were younger.

They had been at their table for almost an hour after they finished eating. When it had come time to pay the bill, Brittany insisted she pay but Santana wouldn't have any of it. Finally they had split the check.

"You live near here?" Santana echoed, cocking her head.

"I live near here," Brittany repeated, smiling.

"Can I see your place?"

Brittany's smile faltered. "I...uh...it's nothing special. It's not quite what you're used to."

Santana frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"No, nothing, it's just, kinda gross and boring."

"I think I can be the judge of what I think is gross and boring," Santana said. "C'mon, if it's near here, it's not like it's  _that_  out of the way." Santana pouted, jutting her bottom lip out.

Brittany knew she was a goner. "Fine," she sighed. Santana clapped her hands in delight and stood up, grinning from ear to ear. Brittany rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the smile on her face. The two women made their way to the front of the restaurant and out onto the sidewalk.

"This way," Brittany pointed and started walking. She had only taken a few steps when she felt Santana link an arm through hers. She pulled herself close to Brittany as if she was cold, even though it was relatively nice out. Brittany was sure her face was going to split from smiling so hard. They walked the few blocks to Brittany's apartment building in comfortable silence though Brittany felt her stomach churning as they neared.

"Well, here it is," she stopped in front of the building, pulling away from Santana to lift her arms at the building. Santana chuckled and Brittany dropped her hands. They were quiet and this time it felt awkward.

"Aren't you going to invite me up?"

Brittany's stomach jolted and she swallowed thickly. She hesitated. "I thought this was just dinner?" She knew she was being blunt and probably sounded like she was assuming a lot, but Santana's question wasn't exactly innocent. After all, she had been the one to lay out the rules that it was just dinner. And going up to one's apartment after a nice dinner didn't necessarily mean anything, but Brittany didn't feel nervous because Santana had asked it as a new acquaintance just wanting to see her apartment. She felt nervous because the question held more than that; it held something they both feared but wanted.

Santana hesitated and looked at the ground before meeting Brittany's eyes again. "What if I changed my mind?"

Brittany swallowed dryly. She nodded and turned to walk towards the door, her cheeks flushed and her nerves on fire. Santana followed and they entered the building, the silence between them now tense with something Brittany couldn't describe. She felt like she was suffocating in the suddenly too small elevator as Santana stood close to her.

Once in her apartment, Brittany realized how spartan it looked as Santana walked around. There was very little furniture and only a few pictures hung from the wall. Brittany thought back and realized they might have even been there already when she moved in. Brittany hung a few steps back as Santana went through the living room and kitchen. Neither of them spoke and it made Brittany fidget. She hadn't planned for Santana to see her apartment. She had just hoped to get through a nice dinner without making an ass out of herself, and maybe get lucky with another kiss goodnight.

Now she followed Santana as she walked confidently into the bedroom on her own self-guided tour. Brittany groaned quietly to herself at all the clothes on the floor. Santana didn't seem to notice. She found the picture of Brittany and her family on the dresser and picked it up. It was from when her father was still alive and Kait was still a little wrinkled peanut bundled up in her mother's arms.

Brittany watched Santana as she inspected the picture. She walked over to her so that she was standing a little bit behind her, looking over Santana's shoulder at her own younger, grinning face. Santana jumped a little, as if she'd forgotten she was in Brittany's room, looking at a family picture of the woman behind her. She put the picture back down but didn't turn around.

"What was your dad like?" She asked, still looking at the picture. When Brittany didn't respond, Santana turned around and found herself extremely close to the blonde, her blue eyes soft but solemn. "I'm sorry, it's none of my business. Actually, I've been really rude, butting into your business and apartment and-"

"Santana..." Brittany shook her head slightly, not caring about Santana's ramblings. Santana stepped closer, her head tilted up as her eyes searched Brittany's face. Brittany licked her lips. She didn't want to instigate it again. Well, she wanted to, but she wasn't going to. She couldn't. She wanted to know that Santana wanted it too. She was pretty sure she did, but she needed to know for sure. She needed -

Santana's lips on hers. Santana pushed into her, the kiss hard and needy. Brittany's heart fluttered as Santana's hands rested on her neck, fingers splayed across soft flesh as she pulled Brittany closer. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana, her hands settling on the small of her back. She hoped her palms weren't too sweaty against her dress.

Santana stepped forward without breaking the kiss, backing Brittany up until her legs bumped up against her bed. She sat back and Santana straddled her easily, her dress hitching up around her thighs. Santana's kisses were hungry, her mouth opening hotly against Brittany's, allowing Brittany's tongue to probe forward. Brittany's hands drifted lower on Santana's back but hesitated before dipping too low. She didn't want to spook Santana, but then again Santana had been the one to straddle her without batting an eyelash.

Now Santana pulled back slightly, tugging Brittany's bottom lip between her teeth. Brittany held back a whimper and Santana released her lip, resting her forehead against Brittany's. She was breathing heavily and she rubbed Brittany's neck soothingly with her thumbs.

"Fuck, Brittany...I want you so badly," she murmured, her eyes closed as she spoke.

Brittany felt heat coil rapidly between her legs. She squeezed them together as she gritted her teeth. Santana didn't seem to notice the effect of her words.

"But, I - I don't know..." she trailed off, opening her eyes and looking expectantly at Brittany, hoping she could finish the sentence she started, hoping she could procure some magic answer.

Brittany reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Santana's face. She didn't know what to say. There were plenty of reasons they should stop now; why they should get off her bed and Santana should leave and act like this never happened. Brittany's thoughts flashed to Ricky and her heart sank. He was reason enough to stop. Not only was Santana dating him, but Brittany was getting paid under the table by him, breaking about a thousand rules in the process. The situation was messier than Brittany liked to think about, and having Santana in her lap at the moment was only going to make it more complicated.

"What are you thinking right now?" Santana's question brought Brittany back to the present. She sighed.

"I'm wondering why things are so complicated, and why you're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and why I didn't meet you first, a long, long time ago," Brittany spoke quietly, meeting Santana's dark brown eyes. It was a heavy thing to say but it was out of her mouth before she could think about it. Something about Santana drew the truth from Brittany like a she was a spool of thread. Once tugged, the spool unraveled smoothly and quickly. Brittany wondered what would happen when it reached the end and there was no more thread to pull.

"Kiss me," Santana breathed. Brittany didn't hesitate to tilt her head upwards and capture Santana's lips with hers. Their kisses were charged now - charged with the desire they both wanted to drown in and shake off at the same time. Brittany moved her hands to Santana's legs. She trailed them up smooth thighs, pushing at the dress until it was bunched around her waist. She felt her own breath catch as Santana twitched.

"Can I?" She questioned between kisses.

Santana nodded, barely moaning an "uh huh" as Brittany's fingers teased the insides of her thighs. Santana's hands gripped at Brittany's hair as their kisses grew sloppy. Santana scooted forward in Brittany's lap, her legs quivering as Brittany continued to trace light patterns on the insides of her thighs, stopping short every time they neared Santana's center. Finally she let one hand graze over damp underwear and smiled to herself at the throaty groan Santana let out. She continued rubbing over Santana's underwear slowly, her own stomach knotting tightly at the heat radiating from underneath the thin fabric.

Santana leaned her head back and Brittany latched on to her neck, sucking and kissing intermittently. She kissed down Santana's chest, pushing as far as the fabric of the dress would allow before moving back up to her neck. Santana leaned forward again, and she rested her head against Brittany's, her mouth close to the blonde's ear.

"Please, Brittany," she whined softly.

Brittany turned her head and found Santana's lips, kissing them greedily. She wanted to be as connected to Santana as she could be. As Santana's tongue pushed into her mouth, Brittany slipped her hand past underwear and met Santana's heated core.

Santana moaned into her mouth as Brittany teased up and down her slit, bumping her clit gently before moving back down. Brittany circled Santana's entrance before slowly slipping two fingers in. Santana instantly bucked forward into Brittany's hand and Brittany began pumping in and out at a steady pace. Santana met each thrust with one of her own, grinding her hips down more and more feverishly as Brittany went.

Their mouths separated as Santana drew quick gasps of air, her hands wrapped tightly in Brittany's hair as they panted against each other.

"Oh..." Santana bit her own lip as Brittany brought her thumb over her clit, rubbing tight circles as she continued pumping her fingers. Santana tried to turn her head away but Brittany kissed her messily, needing to feel her come undone everywhere. Brittany felt Santana clench around her fingers, felt her body shudder, felt Santana sigh into her mouth as she came. She'd been with women before, but she'd never felt anything like this. She continued pumping slowly, helping Santana ride out her orgasm.

When Santana collapsed against her, she withdrew her hand from between her legs and put it back on the outside of her thigh. They sat there for a little while, Santana trembling every now and then as her breathing evened out. Brittany placed kisses along her neck and collarbone, smiling to herself despite the near painful throbbing between her own legs.

"Here," she whispered as she turned, helping Santana lay down on her bed. Brittany lay down next to her, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, Santana rolled over to face Brittany.

"That was just...just - wow," Santana chuckled lightly to herself.

Brittany turned over to look at her. She smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yes, definitely, yes." Santana smiled, scooting closer to Brittany. Her face fell as she thought of something. "I - I'd do the same but," her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips, slightly embarrassed. "I've never really done this before. I - I've wanted to," she said this part as if it was the first time she'd admitted it out loud, or maybe even to herself. "But I've never..."

"It's okay," Brittany said, leaning forward to kiss Santana gently. "Really," she continued when Santana frowned. "I can always show you again sometime," Brittany grinned mischievously. Santana laughed loudly.

"I'd like that," she said.

Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana and pulled her close.

"Have you done that before?" Santana asked quietly.

"Mhm," Brittany nodded.

Santana was quiet then, as if she was thinking it over. She didn't say anything else and just burrowed further into Brittany's arms, a small smile on her face as Brittany kissed her forehead. Brittany leaned down to pull the covers over them and the women snuggled together under the blankets, where they drifted off to sleep still in each others' arms.

**/**

"Mmph,"

"Brittany," Santana laughed lightly. "Your phone's ringing. At least, I think that's what it is?"

Brittany's head shot up, her hair a mess hanging around her face. "Shoot!" She scrambled out of bed and into the living room where her duck phone rested on an end table next to the couch. It quacked loudly. She knew the call would be relatively important, since not many people had her number. If someone was calling her, it was someone she considered important in her life. She grabbed the receiver.

"Hey Brittany, it's Wes. Ricky Betto's at the gym and he's looking for you..."

Brittany blinked stupidly as her brain registered the sentence.

"What should I tell him?" Wes continued, the confusion clear in his voice.

"Tell him I'll be there in 15 minutes," Brittany replied and hung up before Wes could ask any more questions. Brittany's mind raced. Ricky Betto had showed up at her gym. Where was Donally? Had they spoken? What had Betto said? Why hadn't he just called her? Why didn't he come to her apartment?

Brittany realized at the last question that she was actually thankful he didn't show up at her place. She walked back into her room and found Santana sitting up in bed, still in her dress from last night.

"What's up?"

"I have to go to the gym. Trainer wants me there early. He's been working me pretty hard for my next match," Brittany hated how easily the lie rolled off her tongue.

"Okay," Santana pulled the blankets back and sat at the edge of the bed. Brittany sat down next to her.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to kick you out," Brittany apologized.

"No, not at all. You've gotta go to work," Santana turned to Brittany and smiled. "I really had a great time last night," she pushed Brittany's hair back from her face.

"Me too," Brittany smiled as Santana leaned forward and kissed her gently.

"I'll let myself out. Don't get hurt today, okay?" Santana stood up.

I'll do my best," Brittany said, thinking grimly to herself that with Ricky at the gym she couldn't make any promises. Santana just bent over to kiss her again before going into the living room to grab her coat. Brittany listened to the door close behind her as Santana left her apartment. She sat on her a bed a second longer before taking a deep breath and standing to get dressed for the gym.

She dressed quickly but calmly, forcing herself to think rationally about how she would handle whatever Ricky had to say. She also planned for damage control with Wes and maybe Donally, but that department left her feeling flustered, so she tabled it for the moment. She picked up her gym bag and looked at the messy sheets and blankets on her bed. The memory of last night flooded her senses and she allowed herself the pleasure of reliving it in her mind before shaking her head and heading for the door, anxious to get to the gym.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are more pleasant things to do than beat up people." -Muhammad Ali

"There's been a little change of plan," Ricky said smoothly, not even looking at Brittany as he spoke. He was sitting on the edge of Donally's desk as if he was in his own office. Brittany was sitting in one of the chairs opposite the desk. She was still catching her breath from running to the gym. In her rush to see what Ricky wanted and then to get him the fuck out of her gym, she had burst through the doors in a frenzy before remembering she needed to have some sense of calm. Now Ricky leaned forward slightly, a weird leer on his face that seemed stuck between a smile and a sneer, or maybe it was both.

"You're fighting Gonzaga again."

Brittany frowned. "I just fought him, he's not my next-"

Ricky sighed impatiently. "Hence the 'change of plan' bit. Right now, as we speak, your man Donally is sitting in a board meeting in which one of the items on the agenda is rearranging the schedule. It's the perfect thing, too. Think about it. I know we have co-ed matches all the time, but this is a big one. Mainly because you beat him last time. The fans are gonna love it. They're going to eat this shit up! A mostly male audience has the chance to root for the underdog, who for once, is one of the most macho fighters in the league."

Ricky's eyes were nearly dancing with delight as he spoke. It was almost like he'd forgotten Brittany was in the room. Brittany gnawed at her bottom lip and waited for him to continue. She didn't like where this was going. Ricky looked back to her, his tone serious again.

"It's going to be an epic rematch, and the fans will be calling for blood. But this time, you have to lose."

Brittany scowled. She figured that was going to be the catch. She'd be the favorite against Gonzaga since she won last time, so the payoff on a Gonzaga win would be higher. After a moment, she shook her head.

"No. I want out, I'm done with this. I tried to reach you earlier to tell you -"

"No?" Ricky was incredulous. "No? This isn't something you can just say 'no' to. You can't just walk away from this."

Brittany stood up, her resolve solid and her blue eyes cold as she looked at Ricky. "Watch me. I didn't sign anything, and what you're doing is illegal." She turned away and headed towards the door.

"What you're doing is also illegal you know, it's not a one way street!" Ricky called after her. Brittany ignored him and reached for the door. She heard Ricky get off the desk.

"I'll go after your family."

She froze with her hand on the doorknob. It felt like the temperature in the room had dropped 10 degrees. He said it so simply, so calmly, but there was no doubt in her mind he meant it. Brittany faced him, the color drained from her face. Betto stared at her, eyebrows raised, like he had just asked her if she'd like to go to lunch and was waiting for an answer. Brittany felt a mixture of rage and fear bubble in her chest.

"I know where your mother and sister live, where your mom works, where your sister goes to school, where -"

"Shut up," Brittany said tersely. Ricky almost smiled. Brittany stepped towards him. "I'll do it, but this is the last time." She took a slow, deep breath. "And I swear if you even look at my family, I'll kill you."

Ricky met Brittany's stare coolly and he took a moment before he responded. "Okay, I'm going to ignore the threat on my life and look past that, because I consider myself a bit of a family man as well, so I understand the sentiment." Brittany snorted. Ricky continued. "I'm going to ignore the threat and tell you that that can happen. You can be done after this. And you should know, you'll earn a cool hundred grand for this one."

Brittany just turned away again, eager to get out into the gym and let off some steam before she did something else she'd really regret. The dollar amount meant nothing to her now. All she could think of was that the bastard threatened her family, straight up threatened them. Sure, she had threatened him back, but there was no way he was going to get off with talking about her mom and sister without her saying something. She walked to the back of the gym and sat down, beginning to mindlessly wrap her hands, still thinking about her conversation with Ricky.

"Hey,"

Brittany looked up, startled. Wes was standing over her, looking at her quizzically. "What the fuck was that?" He asked, pointing towards Donally's office. Brittany shook her head, not trusting her voice. For a second she considered telling him. Maybe Wes could help her. In reality, she knew she'd never be able to tell him. No matter how close they were, she had betrayed his trust by getting into this shit. She held up her hands, silently asking for assistance with her gloves. Wes sighed, but this time he helped her without questioning her again.

"What kind of trouble are you getting yourself into, Pierce?" Wes asked in what Brittany knew was a rhetorical question. As they took their usual spots around the punching bag, Brittany felt a rush of gratitude towards her friend and trainer for not pushing her into talking.  _It's in his best interest anyway_ , Brittany comforted herself as she stretched.

**/**

She had tried to focus during practice, but her mind had wandered easily, always returning to Ricky, her predicament, and her mother and sister. And to Santana. She wondered how Ricky was pulling this off, how no one had caught him. He must be making a ton of money if he could afford to pay her the way he was. Did no one notice that a lowly city official was making so much money? Was it all off the books so no one saw it? How was he handling the money? Why was he even doing it? Surely he must have people funding his campaigns. Or maybe he didn't, and that's why he was doing it? Did George Lopez know? Did he care? Brittany's mind raced with the list of questions that only seemed to grow the more she thought about it.

Wes had seen she was distracted and let her go early. As she left he warned sternly that she needed to get her head on straight, and soon. The second she had gotten home she had called her mom's apartment. Kait answered and Brittany let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Ricky's threat had set her on edge, and the reassurance of Kait's voice calmed her slightly. Kait told her their mom was working. They chatted for a little before Brittany hung up, happier after having spoken to her sister.

Now she was lying on the floor in her living room, doing crunches to try and supplement her lackluster practice in the gym. Her phone quacked and she bolted upright, immediately nervous again. She picked it up quickly.

"Hello?" She asked, hoping her nerves didn't show through.

"Hey, it's Santana,"

Brittany smiled instantly. "Hey there," she paused. "How do you have my number?"

Santana laughed. "You know there's this awesome new technology called the cell phone? It has this really cool thing called 'caller id', and it can store numbers that have called it before."

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, I've heard of those crazy things," she grinned and hoped Santana could hear her smile over the phone. Santana chuckled before continuing.

"Well yeah, anyway, I wanted to invite you out tomorrow. I'm going to be singing at another bar and thought maybe you'd want to come..."

"I'd like that," Brittany was quick to agree.

"Great! I'll give you the address. I'm probably going on at 9ish..."

Brittany grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled down the address Santana gave her.

"So how was the gym?" Santana asked.

Brittany's smile faltered. "It was fine, exhausting as usual." She wondered how Santana would react if she told her about Ricky. Would she even believe her? She might, seeing as she already seemed to think Ricky was not the most innocent politician. But there was no way she knew just how dirty Ricky actually was, and Brittany was not going to be the one to bring it up, especially not now. There was no reason for it. Instead she focused on the fact that she'd get to see Santana tomorrow. They made small talk for a little while longer before hanging up.

Brittany got into the shower, taking her time in lathering her hair and body. As she washed herself she wondered how she was going to safely extricate herself (and her mother and sister) from this situation. She didn't trust Ricky for a second when he said she'd be done after this, and she needed some sort of back-up plan, but she had no idea where to start.

She dried off and changed into fresh sweats and a t-shirt before picking up a book and getting into bed. Brittany dove into the book, allowing herself to get fully engrossed, shutting out the rest of her thoughts. She knew she kept putting off figuring everything out and that things were only going to get trickier, but there was nothing she could do about anything right this second. Instead she read for a couple of hours. Eventually Brittany felt her eyes getting heavy and she snuggled deeper into her blankets, letting herself drift to sleep, book still in hand.

* * *

Brittany found the bar pretty easily. It was another small one, but it was bigger than the last and it was located on a popular stretch downtown. Brittany ordered a beer from the bartender and looked around as she waited. The place was crowded. There was no real stage that she could see, but she spotted a piano on an elevated platform and slid into an empty booth nearby, beer in hand.

She had spent her morning and a good part of the afternoon at the gym after vowing to give Wes, and herself, a better practice than the other day. Every time her thoughts drifted to Betto, she channeled the surge of frustration into hard blows on the punching bag. She had also sparred with another boxer in the gym and accidentally knocked him out. Wes shook his head before eyeing her warily, despite the small grin that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Now her attention was drawn to the piano as a man sat down and fiddled with the keys. After a minute or two, the lights dimmed and one bright light focused on the platform. Santana slinked up the few stairs leading to the platform, mic already in hand. Brittany's breath caught in her throat. Santana caught her eye and smiled, giving Brittany the tiniest wave before she turned away. She began singing, her voice throaty but strong. Santana wore a tight blue dress with dark stripes across it. The fabric hugged her body like the tightest glove Brittany had ever seen and she wondered how Santana managed to hop up on the piano they way she did. The singer crossed her legs seductively and Brittany gulped as strong thighs strained against the restrictive dress.

Santana leaned backwards slightly to flirt with the piano man while she sang. He smiled and swooned, pretending to faint. Santana beamed as she sat back up, her eyes flickering towards Brittany again, who realized her mouth was open. She sipped her beer and tried not to stare too hard, but there was really nowhere else to look. Santana sang a couple of songs before sliding off the piano and taking a small bow.

The place erupted with applause and wolf whistles. Santana made her way back down the platform and out of sight. Brittany looked for her but she disappeared towards the back of the room. Eventually Brittany saw her by the bar, ordering a drink. She watched as Santana paid and then made her way towards the booth she was sitting in. Brittany scooted back as Santana slipped into the booth on the same side as her.

"You're incredible," Brittany smiled as Santana sat down next to her.

Santana blushed and sipped from her drink, so Brittany continued, even though she felt her face flush as well.

"Really. You could sing professionally, no doubt in my mind."

Santana smiled sadly. "No I couldn't."

"Why not? You're so talented!" Brittany almost reached out to tuck Santana's hair behind her ear, but decided against it.

"I know that." Santana replied confidently without missing a beat. Brittany laughed.

"So why not?"

"Ricky wouldn't really want me to."

Brittany felt anger flash through her hotly.

"It's not his choice," she said insistently, trying to catch Santana's eyes, but the woman focused on a spot on the table as she fiddled with her cup. Brittany felt her frustration flare.

"And it's not that simple," Santana tipped her drink back and drained the last of it. "I'm getting another drink, do you want one?" She finally met Brittany's eyes, dark in the dimness of the bar.

"I'll have whatever you're having," Brittany shrugged. Santana got up and went over to the bar. Brittany leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She needed more to drink. She opened her eyes when she felt a knee against hers. Santana slid a cup over towards her and she took it eagerly. Brittany sipped from it and blanched at the strength of the drink. She licked her lips and was suddenly aware that Santana was sitting even closer than she had been when she first sat down.

"I'm sorry," Brittany mumbled as she looked down into her drink.

"You apologize too much," Santana said gently.

"I do a lot of stupid things."

Santana reached out and cupped Brittany's cheek, turning her head towards her. Brittany met her gaze tentatively.

"It's not stupid to care about people."

Brittany raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to debate that point but was stopped by Santana's lips on hers. Santana pressed her farther back into the booth, the dim lighting adding to their cover. Brittany wasn't sure what Santana had meant, but her brain faltered as Santana sucked on her bottom lip, and she decided not to think too much. A whine escaped her throat when Santana eventually pulled back.

"Take me home?" She asked against Brittany's lips. Brittany nodded quickly. Santana slid from the booth and Brittany took a large swig from her drink before following. They took a cab back to Brittany's apartment. The ride was silent expect for Brittany's labored breathing as Santana's hand teased the inside of her thigh, safely out of the cabbie's line of vision in the rearview mirror. Blood was pounding loudly in her ears as she led Santana up to her apartment.

Once inside, she closed the door and pressed Santana up against it, kissing her roughly. She brought a leg between Santana's, unable to press against her fully as the tautness of her dress prevented it. Santana rocked her hips forward but groaned with frustration when the dress refused to slide up her thighs.

She pushed Brittany back wordlessly, guiding the stumbling woman towards her own bedroom. Brittany couldn't identify at what point in the night they had entered this silent battle for dominance, but the heat between her legs was indication enough that she was enjoying it. She fell back onto her bed and quickly unbuttoned her jeans, pulling her underwear down with them. She pulled her shirt off and watched Santana fumble with the zipper at the back of her dress.

Brittany chuckled under her breath and stood to help Santana. She almost asked how Santana got into it in the first place, but the image of Ricky zipping her up made her bite back the question. Instead, she unzipped the dress slowly, peppering Santana's back with kisses as she got lower and lower. The zipper stopped right above Santana's butt and Brittany kissed a trail back up Santana's spine to her neck.

Santana turned around and shrugged her dress off. It had been tight enough that she hadn't needed a bra, and Brittany's stomach flipped as she saw Santana had also forgone underwear. Brittany quickly unhooked her bra and kissed Santana, turning her and guiding her towards the bed. She smirked inwardly as she straddled Santana, moving to suck on her neck as the woman arched towards her. But Santana was not to be beaten so easily.

Brittany gasped against Santana's neck as two hands cupped her breasts, thumbs flicking across her nipples eagerly. She kissed at Santana's jawline, nipping at smooth skin as Santana continued to tease her, tweaking and pinching her hardened nipples, all while breathing into her ear. One hand made its way down Brittany's stomach, ghosting over hard abs before finding wet heat between her legs. Brittany could feel Santana's smile against her ear as she whimpered pathetically, melting into the touch.

She leaned up to kiss Santana messily, begging for more with her kiss. Santana's cockiness faltered for a second - this was still her first time doing this to another woman - but Brittany rocked against her fingers and she went with it. She explored, pressing forward, doing it again when Brittany bit down on her lip, finding herself ridiculously turned on by the effect she was having on the woman on top of her.

Santana pressed easily up into Brittany with two fingers, matching Brittany's rocking hips with gentle yet commanding thrusts. Brittany's head lolled forward, her breath in Santana's ear as she moaned. Encouraged, Santana thumbed Brittany's clit, sending a shiver through her body. Brittany moved faster against Santana's fingers, her breathing coming in ragged gasps.

"Oh, fuck," she hissed between gritted teeth. Santana let out a small gasp herself as she felt Brittany tighten - around her fingers, against her body - everywhere. Brittany kept moving slowly against Santana's hand before collapsing on top of her. Brittany's legs twitched against Santana's as she sighed contentedly. Santana brought her hand up to push Brittany's hair from her face.

Brittany wore a sleepy grin. "Are you sure that was your first time doing that?"

Santana giggled uncharacteristically and Brittany smiled wider. She turned and kissed Brittany's forehead. "I guess I'm just talented all around."

"Hmm," Brittany hummed contentedly. She reached out and cupped one of Santana's breasts before tracing a lazy trail down to her stomach, circling her belly button before pressing on. Her eyes moved back and forth from watching Santana's face to watching her hand approach the apex of tanned thighs. Santana's breath hitched as slender fingers dipped lower, finding slickness that made her bite her lip.

Brittany propped herself up and withdrew her fingers, smiling smugly at the pout on Santana's lips. She crawled over Santana and lowered herself, flicking her tongue over sensitive nipples before following the trail her fingers had paved, this time with her lips. Santana watched her closely, her legs spreading easily as Brittany kissed around her folds, teasing her until she groaned.

"Please," Santana arched upwards. Brittany nipped at her inner thigh. Hearing Santana practically beg her to touch her made a new rush of heat flood between her own legs. Brittany lowered her tongue to Santana, licking up and down quickly. Santana's legs quivered and Brittany held a hand against Santana's waist, holding the woman down as she worked.

She licked, sucked, and thrust with an eagerness that surprised her. The taste and smell of Santana's need made her dizzy. To give her tongue a break she occasionally brought her fingers down, pressing and rubbing quickly, raising Santana higher and higher. She returned her mouth to Santana's clit and soon she writhed beneath her, nearly thrashing as she came undone. Santana arched off the bed, one hand gripping tightly at Brittany's hair, her name on her lips. Brittany looked up from between Santana's legs and took in the woman before her, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, radiating pure pleasure.

Brittany crawled slowly back up towards her pillows, reveling in the fact that she had been the one to make Santana look that way; feel that way. She fell against Santana, maybe a little too roughly, causing her to let out a soft "oof".

"Sorry," Brittany murmured into Santana's neck.

"You apologize too much," Santana smiled as she turned to face Brittany. Their foreheads bumped softly and the women fell asleep easily, cuddled into each other under the covers.

**/**

Brittany woke first the next morning. The sun poked through her window, lighting the backs of her eyelids and nudging her awake. She and Santana had rolled apart at some point in the night, and Brittany rolled back over to press up against the woman's back. She draped an arm over smooth skin and kissed Santana's shoulder blade before putting her head back down on the pillow.

Santana turned under Brittany's arm to face her. Brittany smiled as sleepy brown eyes met blue. "'Morning, pretty,"

Santana smiled coyly. "'Morning," she mumbled, kissing Brittany softly.

"Want breakfast?"

"In bed? Yes please,"

Brittany rolled out of bed and went into the kitchen, still naked. She wondered if she should put clothes on - walking around stark naked in front of someone felt pretty intimate, but she felt comfortable around Santana. She hoped Santana felt the same.

In the kitchen Brittany realized she didn't have much in the way of a decent breakfast. She poured two bowls of cereals and silently swore she'd get a few recipes under her belt that didn't involve cereal or a microwave. She brought the bowls back into her bedroom.

"I hope you like Frosted Flakes," she said sheepishly as she held out a bowl for Santana who was sitting up in bed. Santana laughed as she took the bowl, saying that she did indeed enjoy the cereal. Brittany tried not to stare too brazenly as she sat back down on the bed. Since she was sitting up, the sheets has pooled around Santana's waist, exposing her breasts. Brittany stole glances between bites of cereal, marveling at the woman's curves. Santana noticed Brittany's less than furtive looks and smiled into her cereal.

"So this is how you get all the ladies, huh?" She motioned to their bowls. Brittany nodded and smiled through tight lips, trying to contain the large mouthful she had just spooned. Santana chuckled. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Brittany spoke.

"Where does Ricky think you are now?"

The question caught Santana off guard, but she just shrugged. "Just, out. He's usually up late at his office anyway. Thinks I'm out with friends." She shrugged again and put her bowl down on the nightstand next to the bed before lying down. Brittany hoped she hadn't misstepped with the question, but it had been out of her mouth before she could really stop it.  _Like most of her best questions_ , she thought sarcastically. Santana pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Your bed's so cozy," she said as she wriggled under the covers, settling in. Brittany smiled, relieved Santana was changing the subject. She leaned over and placed her bowl on the nightstand before straddling Santana over the blanket. She supported her weight with her forearms on the bed, enjoying the chill on her exposed backside and the warmth radiating against her chest and stomach from Santana's body, even through the covers.

"Mmhm," Brittany hummed as she dropped small kisses on Santana's cheek and jaw line.

"I don't wanna get out," Santana smiled sleepily, tilting her head back to allow Brittany better access. Brittany thought her face might split in two she was smiling so hard.

"You don't have to," she replied, moving down to kiss at Santana's neck.

"You don't have to go to the gym?"

"Nuh uh," Brittany kissed Santana once more before sitting up and pulling the covers back. Santana let out a small shriek and made to reach for the blanket but Brittany pulled it over herself so that when she laid back down, her body pressed flush against Santana's. Brittany felt desire flare in her stomach and her skin buzzed everywhere it touched Santana's. She kissed Santana lazily, her heart skipping a beat when Santana's tongue flicked across her bottom lip.

"So who are you fighting tomorrow?" Santana pulled back, as if the question had just popped into her mind. Brittany's stomach dropped and she hesitated.

"Gonzaga," she said solemnly, sliding off of Santana and onto her side. Santana turned to face her, one hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on her chest, occasionally dipping lower and teasing the blonde by softly grazing a nipple as it went.

"Didn't you fight him recently?"

"Yeah," Brittany replied, not liking where the conversation was going.

"Is that typical?" Santana shifted so that her head rested on Brittany's chest.

"Not really. The board rescheduled because they think it'll be a crowd pleaser." As she spoke, she wondered just how much she should actually say. The whole thing already made her nervous; discussing it with Santana wasn't helping. Her heart was racing just talking about it.

Santana frowned and leaned up on one arm. She put her other hand over Brittany's chest, where she had felt the woman's heart rate speed up. She rubbed pale skin soothingly.

"Hey," Brittany looked up at her. "Don't be nervous. You beat him last time, right?" Brittany gave a weak smile and just nodded. She wanted to blurt everything right then and there. The truth pushed at her lips, but she bit her bottom lip and swallowed hard. Santana leaned down and kissed her. Brittany parted her lips, almost hoping to transfer the truth into Santana's mouth with her own. As she sucked Santana's bottom lip between her teeth, she rolled the two of them so that she had Santana pinned beneath her. The desire she had felt before was there again, back in full force.

"So since you don't want to get out of bed, I have a few ideas for what we can do without leaving,"

Santana found she was more than willing to hear out Brittany's ideas.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Boxing is about being hit more than it is about hitting, just as it is about feeling pain, if not devastating psychological paralysis, more than it is about winning." - Joyce Carol Oates

Wes rubbed her shoulders soothingly. The familiar roar of the crowd seemed distant in her ears. Brittany watched Gonzaga speak with his trainer across the ring. Wes' firm hands continued to work her muscles which were unusually tense as she sat in her corner of the ring. He reassured her that she'd be fine against Gonzaga. Sure, they hadn't spent the week training for him, because Wes had found out about the change too late, but she had faced him before and won, right? Wes repeated this logic a few times until he noted Brittany's anxiety was different than the usual pre-match nerves.

"Hey," he moved to stand in front of her and leaned forward so they were eye to eye. "Brittany, whatever it is, just focus on one round at a time, okay? Block all the other shit out," the sincerity in his voice made Brittany's stomach turn. She wanted this to be over with already. She was almost looking forward to Gonzaga beating the shit out of her. She hoped it would make her feel less guilty, knowing that she was at least getting retribution in some form.

Wes stepped down as the warning bell rang. The buzz in the arena was nearly palpable - Ricky had been right about the match garnering a lot of attention. Brittany leaned back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She thought back to earlier in the day and her ice cream ritual with her mom and sister. She had allowed herself then to relax and enjoy their company, and she let that feeling of comfort wash over her again. When she opened her eyes she wished she could have seen Santana as well. They had spent a good portion of the day before in bed until Santana said she had better get back to Ricky, and they hadn't spoken since then. Brittany gritted her teeth at the idea of Santana sitting in the booth with him right now.

The starting bell rang and she stood up, a sense of deja vu flashing through her mind. She met Gonzaga in the middle and they bumped gloves. Gonzaga gave her a sneer and Brittany scowled. Suddenly she wondered if he knew. She knew Gonzaga was a cocky jerk, so his smugness wasn't something out of the ordinary, but what if he was smug now because he knew he was going to win? Ricky did favor him after all, that was clear even before this "rematch". But Brittany imagined Ricky would want to keep as many people in the dark as possible about this.

Brittany shook her head, clearing the thoughts that threatened to knock her out before a single punch was thrown. Gonzaga stalked around her, jabbing half-heartedly, keeping her flinching. The first few minutes of the round, Brittany fought hard. She kept up with Gonzaga and even landed a few blows. Eventually she glanced at the clock and saw there was one minute left in the round. She took a deep breath and willed herself to slow down.

It killed her to see the punch coming and not react. Especially since it was so  _slow_. As Gonzaga's fist connected with her cheek, Brittany wondered how he even got into boxing with such an obvious delivery. He had a clear tell before he lashed out and Brittany saw it almost every time. She hit the floor of the ring hard and stayed there, eyes closed as the ref counted to ten above her. At least he hadn't  _actually_  knocked her out. The ref reached 'ten' and leaned over Brittany, who opened her eyes on cue, standing up slowly. She made her way back to her corner and sat down, rubbing her numb cheek that radiated into her jaw and even a bit of her neck.

Wes hopped up into the ring to give her a pep talk but she waved him off with a gloved hand, unable to look at him. The last thing she needed was a reminder of how guilty she felt about all this. Wes assumed she was frustrated and just clapped loudly when the second bell rang, giving her an encouraging "c'mon". Brittany got up slowly and advanced back towards the middle of the ring.

Gonzaga's cockiness had only increased, and he began running his mouth, an onslaught of taunts directed at Brittany as they traded meaningless punches. For the most part she ignored him, inwardly shaking her head at what an ass he was. Gonzaga landed a particularly rough punch that caught Brittany off guard and sent her stumbling back against the ropes. She hung there for a second as the arena spun before her. It took her a second to realize Gonzaga was pointing at her and speaking.

"C'mon you fucking dyke, get back here,"

It felt like another punch. It was an invisible gloved fist that nailed her in the throat, choking her and rendering her speechless. Brittany blinked and was on the other side of the ring, connecting with Gonzaga's face, the blow accompanied by a sickening thud as glove met cheekbone. He fell back and Brittany followed, her arms firing like pistons as she continued her assault. The bell rang somewhere behind her and the ref caught her arms, dragging her back and off of Gonzaga. The ref guided her back towards her corner and turned to look at Gonzaga, who was being brought to with smelling salts by his trainer.

Brittany sank into her seat in the corner of the ring, body shaking as her opponent's words set her mind on fire. She was oblivious to anything else besides the way her hands clenched in her gloves, the way she itched to get into the next round and tear Gonzaga apart.

Wes hovered outside the ring. He had heard the slur and was torn between getting into the ring to calm his fighter down and just letting her fly off the handle like she seemed prepared to do. The third bell rang before he could decide, and he watched Brittany stand and stride purposefully back into the middle of the ring.

The third round began and for a split second Brittany was sure Ricky was boring holes into her back with his eyes. She could practically feel him watching her, but quickly forgot him again as Gonzaga managed to smile, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Her anger rose up, bubbling like bile in her throat, collecting like a force in her gloves, urging them forward, urging them to lash out. Gonzaga had the gall to beckon her over towards him with his gloves, still wearing a wicked grin.

Brittany willingly moved towards him and caught him in the gut with a punch he didn't even see. He recovered quickly, and the two danced around each other, sweat pouring down both their faces. The third round seemed to drag on forever, and when no one was knocked out by the time the clock read "zero", the decision went to the judges. The fighters stood on either side of the ref in the ring, waiting for the result of the third round that would determine who won the match. The judges gave it to Brittany, and icy cold dread filled her before the ref had even raised her hand in the air to indicate victory.

Her mind whirred as Wes led her down to her locker room. He was excited by what he was calling a "just and moral victory" and left her to get changed for the party. In the locker room Brittany sat on a bench with her head between her hands. Her victory may have been a righteous one - her temper still flared when she thought of Gonzaga's insult - but it was also a victory that left her in deep shit. She stood up and slammed her hands against the lockers.

"Fuck!"

The clang of the lockers made her head throb even more, and she started peeling her clothing off to get in the shower. She almost wanted to get out of there, without even showering or anything. What if Ricky came after her? The arena cleared out quickly after fights and the locker rooms were relatively isolated. She stood with one foot in the shower. _No_ , she reassured herself. Ricky was smoother than that. Sneakier than that. Brittany decided it'd be best to go to the party and try to keep any sense of normalcy she could. She managed to chuckle to herself under the hot water. If she missed another party, Donally would kill her before Ricky even got a chance to get his hands on her.

**/**

Brittany jumped at the hand on her shoulder. "Good fight, girl! Good fight," Wes beamed at the compliment from the stranger as if it had been directed at him. Brittany strained a smile and sipped her soda. She was on edge and needed to leave soon. She was spending all her energy with her head on a swivel, looking all over for a glimpse of Ricky. It made her more nervous that she didn't see him.

"Excuse me," she said to no one in particular before she headed to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom Brittany wet her hands with cold water and held them to her cheeks. She breathed deeply and tried to steady her nerves. The door swung open and she flinched.

"How did I know I'd find you here," Santana smiled as the door closed behind her. Brittany grinned nervously, running a hand through her hair. Santana noticed she was upset instantly.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She stepped closer. Brittany watched her through the reflection of the mirror.

"Where's Ricky?"

Santana frowned, confused. "Wha-"

"What if he finds out about us?" Brittany practically tripped over her own words. She turned to look at Santana. "Not like, 'us' us, but..." She motioned between the two of them. Santana chewed her bottom lip, thinking the question over. She shrugged.

"Ricky has his affairs, I can have mine..."

Brittany blanched. The words hurt more than she expected. She hadn't known what to expect, but not that. Santana realized how it sounded and reached out for Brittany. "No, Britt, not like that -"

But Brittany was already brushing past Santana and opening the bathroom door.  _She was an affair_.  _A fucking affair. A fling._  She was barely two steps out of the bathroom when a burly man approached her. He looked out of place at the party wearing a black sweater and jeans. He walked up to her and without saying anything, grabbed a hold of her arm right above her elbow. He turned her and guided her down the hallway towards the hotel's kitchen.  _Things are going from bad to worse in a hurry_ , Brittany thought darkly. She knew the man must have something to do with Ricky, but allowed herself to be guided down the hall anyway.

"You can let go of me you know, I'm not going to run," she said as she looked over at the man. He seemed to consider for a second, and actually let go of her arm. They took another step and Brittany flinched as if to turn and run, laughing loudly when the man grabbed her arm. He muttered something under his breath and Brittany chuckled, but felt fear bloom in her stomach.

They walked through the kitchen and out a back door into a wide alleyway. A little farther down a black town car idled. Brittany looked around but there was no one outside.  _Could of used someone to be on their smoke break right about now_ , she mused. The man opened the door and roughly guided Brittany into the backseat before getting into the passenger seat. Ricky was in the back and motioned for the driver to go, not even looking at Brittany. She watched where they went like a hawk, planning to memorize her whereabouts if they were intending on dumping her in a ditch or something.

After a few minutes of driving, they had stayed in familiar territory and actually pulled up near the park Brittany and Kait used to play in, the same one where Donally first introduced himself so many years ago.  _Fitting_ , Brittany thought. Ricky got out of the car and the driver and other man in the front got out as well, the man from the party leading Brittany into the park. It was dark out - the park was technically closed and not lit at night - and it was eerily quiet. The goon with the grip on Brittany's arm pushed her down into the grass and stood near her as the other man stood on her other side. Ricky stood nearby, running a hand through his hair.

Brittany got up, brushing the dirt off her dress. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She knew she should run. She knew she  _could_  run. Ricky's men were built, but there was no way they had stamina. This park was wide open and Brittany knew it like the back of her hand. She could hike her dress up to her thighs and bolt. But something kept her rooted to the spot, her eyes darting between the men around her. Finally, Ricky sighed.

"You really fucked me over, you know that?"

Brittany assumed it was a rhetorical question.

"You really did," Ricky shook his head and stepped closer. Brittany watched him in the dim light and flinched when the driver and other man stepped a little closer as well. "Things were going well, Brittany. You could have been done after this. All you had to do was lose. Really not that difficult."

She could hear the anger in his voice, even though he did his best to keep his tone neutral.

"Now I'm left scrambling to save my ass. I've got a lot of people involved here, and you really had the easiest bit. But you really  _fucked_  it up." He spat out the last part, his stress showing through his cool demeanor.

"So, while I'm thinking about how I'm going to fix this, I'm going to beat the shit out of you. Well," he laughed, a short, dry laugh. "Not me, personally. But I'm going to have my two friends over here beat the shit out of you. And I'll watch."

Brittany decided it was definitely fear that had turned her legs to cement. She braced herself as the men moved towards her.

"It's what should have happened earlier tonight, and I'll at least get some peace of mind knowing that you're feeling the full effect of your mistake." Ricky crossed his arms. Adrenaline flooded Brittany as the driver reached for her. Her training kicked in and she stepped back, avoiding a meaty hand as it swiped at her.

Brittany had trained for years for fighting one opponent, but not for two. She avoided the driver, but stepped back into the waiting hands of the man who had corralled her at the party. Thick arms pulled her arms back, pinning her to his chest. Brittany grunted and strained against him, her own arms burning as they tried to break free. The driver came at her again.

"You're going to hold down a fucking woman? You fucking -" Her shout died in her throat as the air rushed from her lungs. She could have sworn she heard something crack. The driver had punched her in the stomach and a wave of nausea tore through her as she slumped forward. The man holding her let her go and she fell to the ground.

She stayed on all fours, bringing a hand up to tentatively touch her side. She found that breathing sent a stabbing pain through her right side.  _Fucker broke my rib_ , she thought angrily. Brittany waited for another assault but when nothing came she began to stand. As she righted herself, a fist sent her spinning as it landed across her cheek, the same side Gonzaga had hit earlier in the evening. She fell back to the ground and groaned audibly.

"Don't whine, you should have fucking lost tonight. You could have avoided all this," Ricky retorted.

Brittany looked in the direction the voice had come from. From the ground she lunged at the man that had caused her so much pain these past weeks, mentally and physically. A foot caught her in the back that sent her tumbling to the ground again. Ricky laughed sharply. Brittany stayed on the ground, her head spinning and a hand clutching her ribs. The men around her were quiet and she could here a car pass by on the street. After a moment, Ricky spoke again.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

Brittany felt hands around her arms as Ricky's men lifted her and dragged her carelessly back towards the car.  _Now where_ , she wondered as she fought to stay conscious. They drove for a few minutes before the man in the passenger seat got out and opened Brittany's door and pulled her from the car. She stumbled to the sidewalk, righting herself as much as she could while still clutching at her side.

Ricky rolled down the window as the man got back in the car. "I'll be in touch," he said, barely giving Brittany a second glance. The car pulled away and Brittany looked down the street, realizing she was on her own block. She began walking towards her apartment, wincing with every step. As she reached her stoop she remembered her coat, with her keys in its pocket, was back at the hotel. Luckily she had a spare hidden near her building. She cried out as she bent over, the pain in her side nearly blinding her. She blinked rapidly, making sure she was not about to faint, and reached for the small rock under a bush next to the stoop. She picked up her spare key, glad she had remembered to even put one down in the first place, and turned towards the door.

Brittany made her way inside, falling back against the elevator wall as she rode up to her apartment. She moved slowly down her hallway and spotted someone sitting in front of her door. Santana had heard the elevator door and turned to see Brittany limping towards her.

"What happened?" She stood quickly, her eyes wide as they took in Brittany's swollen cheek and the way she was walking, clutching her side.

Brittany shook her head and opened her door, not bothering to close it. Santana followed and locked the door behind her. Brittany shuffled into her bedroom and laid down as gently as she could on the bed.

"What the hell happened?" Santana asked again, standing in the doorway before tentatively approaching the bed. Brittany only closed her eyes and focused on taking shallow breathes which she found hurt less. Santana sat on the edge of the bed.

"Brittany, you have to go to the hospital! Will you please tell me what happened?" There was panic laced in Santana's voice and Brittany opened her eyes to look at her. Santana's eyes were wide and scared as they continued to flicker across Brittany's injuries.

"I can't go to the hospital, and I can't tell you what happened. Why were you outside my apartment anyway?" Brittany tried to speak gently, but getting each word out took such effort she feared she sounded gruffer than she intended.

"I - I felt awful about what I said in the bathroom. I went looking for you but you basically vanished from the party, so I came here, figuring you had gone home..." Santana trailed off before shaking her head. "And why can't you go to the hospital? Why won't you tell me what happened? I want to know what the fuck happened between our conversation in the bathroom and now."

Brittany looked away from Santana and stared at the ceiling. She shook her head slowly. She couldn't tell Santana. There was too much at stake now, if there hadn't been already. Betto beating the shit out of her elevated things. She knew he was in deep shit because of her, and that meant she was still in deep shit. Tears stung the corner of her eyes when she felt Santana slip a hand in the one that wasn't clutching her ribs.

"It's better if you don't know," Brittany finally said, still looking at the ceiling. Santana stood abruptly.

"I don't need to be protected, you know!" Santana huffed before taking a deep breath. "I've been 'protected' my whole freaking life, but I'm a goddamn adult!"

Brittany looked at her now and motioned for Santana to come sit down. Santana sighed and did, taking Brittany's hand again.

"I'm sorry," Brittany apologized. Santana chuckled and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I - it's complicated."

Santana was quiet for a while. Her thumb rubbed over Brittany's hand absentmindedly as she seemed to study the floor, deep in thought. Finally she looked up. Her voice was thick and she spoke slowly.

"Brittany, I care about you. I do and I didn't mean what I said in the bathroom. You're not an affair...well, technically you are, but it's not just an affair," Santana's eyes met Brittany's but she quickly looked back down at a spot on the floor. Brittany's heart was beating hard in her chest. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it when Santana continued.

"And, I'm really scared. Scared about how I feel, scared that I feel scared for you. I - I can't make you tell me what happened, but I need you to let me do something for you. I need to help you somehow."

Brittany swallowed hard. She could tell she was seeing a side of Santana that the woman did not reveal often. She pulled herself into a sitting position, but not before she let out a string of curses from the pain when she moved.

"I have a cousin who's a doctor. Please let him come see you? You don't have to go to the hospital, and he won't ask questions." Santana watched Brittany closely, her brow wrinkled with worry.

"Okay," Brittany nodded. She didn't think there was anything a doctor could do for her at the moment besides write her a prescription for good painkillers, but that was better than nothing. Not having to show up at the hospital and answer prying questions was also a plus.

Santana smiled as relief swept over her features. She leaned forward and kissed the corner of Brittany's mouth before pulling back slightly. "I should probably go home, but I'll be back in the morning, okay?"

Brittany leaned forward and captured Santana's lips with hers. Santana brought a hand up to her swollen cheek which caused her to flinch away with sharp breath.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry," Santana moved her hand away. She looked Brittany over - the swollen cheek, the dirtied dress, the way she held her side gingerly - and fought a rush of despair that threatened to break her. She helped Brittany lie down before kissing her tenderly on the forehead.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she murmured against pale skin before she stood. "And I'm taking your key," Santana tossed over her shoulder as she left the room. Brittany closed her eyes as she heard the door close.

The light in her room was still on, but she didn't think she'd get that much sleep regardless. She was pretty sure she had a footprint imprinted on her back from where one of the men had stepped on her. Her legs were sore from the general stamina she used during the fight with Gonzaga. Breathing was still painful, and anything past a shallow breath made her whimper. Brittany willed herself to sleep, but the pain made it difficult to drift off. Instead, she focused on the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling, pale green in the light. They reminded her of when she was younger and her dad used to tell her bedtime stories, always finishing them with a kiss to her forehead and reminding her to make a wish before she fell asleep. She smiled sadly, wondering how her simple life had become so damn complicated.

**/**

Brittany must have fallen asleep eventually, because she found herself startled awake by voices and a key in the door. Pain came crashing over her like a tidal wave filled with bricks, reminding her of every blow she had taken through the course of the past night. Brittany gritted her teeth and strained to hear what was going on in her apartment.

"Gracias, otra vez," Santana said. Brittany could only hear a man's voice mumble something back, possibly in Spanish too. "Y recuerda, no una palabra a nadie, por favor," Santana continued.

Brittany couldn't help but feel a small flare of desire in her stomach. She could get used to Santana speaking Spanish, even if she didn't understand a word. Santana poked her head into Brittany's room.

"Hey there," she smiled and walked over to the bed, bending down to give Brittany a quick peck on the lips. She pouted sympathetically as she looked Brittany over.

"Jimmy!" Santana stood back up and called into the living room. A good-looking man came around the corner into Brittany's room holding a small black bag. He was tan like Santana and wore a blue button down and black slacks.

"Brittany, this is Dr. Jimenez Lopez, or, 'Jimmy, the ugly cousin' as we like to call him," Santana laughed as the man glared at her. He rolled his eyes as Santana stepped back and he moved closer to the bed.

"Hello, Brittany. If you can sit up I'll take a look and see what's going on."

Brittany grimaced as she sat up. She suddenly felt very self-conscious. She had never cared to be the center of attention, and she hated being fretted over. She gleaned a small sense of pleasure from the way Santana watched nervously in the corner, but overall she did not like being tended to.

Jimmy worked quickly but gently. He stuck to strictly medical questions, which Brittany assumed was Santana's doing. She noted the curious glint in his eye, but was thankful that he held his tongue. Santana had excused herself when Jimmy helped Brittany get out of her dress so he could examine her ribs. It was a gesture purely for the sake of appearances, Brittany knew. She had thrown Santana a furtive look on her way out and felt a hot blush creep up her cheeks as she shrugged off her dress. She wondered if there was a word to sum up the awkwardness of undressing in your own bedroom for the male cousin of a woman you've slept with, but nothing came to mind.

"Well, looks like you have two fractured ribs. And you managed to get away with just a badly bruised cheekbone - it doesn't appear to be cracked. No nerve damage to your spine, either. Always a plus." Jimmy stood up and took out a small pad of paper and pen. "I'll write you a prescription for some good painkillers with a refill, and you should avoid most physical activity for the next month. At least."

Brittany took the prescription he handed her. "Thank you so much."

"No problem," he nodded curtly. "Feel well," he turned and left her room. Brittany heard him speak with Santana, but couldn't pick up on what they were saying. She assumed they were speaking in Spanish again anyway. The front door closed and Santana came back into Brittany's room. She held out her hand towards Brittany.

"Here, I'll pick up your prescription. I'm betting you want those pain meds, right?"

Brittany handed her the paper and nodded. She wrapped her arms around herself, slightly chilly from sitting out in only her bra and underwear. Santana noticed and helped Brittany lie down and get under the covers.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"'Kay," Brittany mumbled, grimacing against the pain that lying down induced. She grabbed Santana's wrist as she turned to leave the room. Santana turned to face her. Brittany paused. "I don't deserve you," she said solemnly, unable to hold Santana's gaze as she spoke.

"You're probably right," Santana deadpanned.

Brittany laughed before groaning loudly, clutching her side. Santana frowned and leaned forward to kiss her. Brittany moved her hand up to Santana's neck, keeping her there so she could deepen the kiss.

Finally she dropped her hand away and pulled back slightly. "Thank you," she whispered earnestly against Santana's lips. Santana merely nodded and gave Brittany a quick peck before leaving the room to grab the keys off the kitchen counter and head over to the pharmacy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Boxing was not the sport I thought it was due to all the politics." -Gerry Cooney

"Here, it says to take one every 6 hours."

Santana had come back with Brittany's prescription and a couple of bags of groceries. When Brittany had raised her eyebrows at the food, Santana rolled her eyes. "You offered me breakfast in bed and brought out Frosted Flakes...and now you can't exactly run down to the store so easily, so I figured I'd get you some supplies."

Brittany would have been offended that Santana teased her about the Frosted Flakes if she hadn't been so smitten with the fact that Santana had bought her groceries. She bit back her smile when Santana handed her a pill and a glass of water, eyeing her curiously.

"Wait, give me another one," Brittany took the glass and the pill but looked for the bottle. Santana frowned.

"It said only one -"

"I'm making up for the fact that I didn't have one yesterday," Brittany grinned cheekily, watching Santana expectantly. Her years of boxing had led her to know her body incredibly well, and she knew one pill wasn't going to cut it. Santana shook her head.

"I'm not helping you overdose on pain meds," Santana crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow. Brittany got the sense that people didn't challenge Santana often.

"Don't make me get them myself," she whined, pulling her covers off of herself as if to get out of bed. Santana just stood watching her, calling her bluff, but her temperament faltered at the grimace Brittany wore as she sat up, apparently determined to get another pill. Brittany was just about to push herself off the bed when Santana broke.

"No, no, okay fine, jeez, you win," she shook her head at Brittany who was wearing a triumphant yet pained grin. "Just lie back down, please, and I'll get you another pill, okay? Druggie?"

Brittany nodded and slid back into her bed as Santana left the room and came back with another pill. She gave it to Brittany who took the other one in her hand, sitting up slightly. She tossed both pills in her mouth and chugged them down with water. Santana took the glass from her as she laid back down and pulled the covers over herself.

"Thanks," she smiled at Santana.

"You're welcome, I guess." Santana said begrudgingly as she sat on the edge of the bed. Brittany took her hand, stroking the back of it soothingly.

"Aw c'mon, I'm used to painkillers! Don't you think if I was going to become addicted, it would have happened already?"

Santana didn't seem to find that any more comforting and wrinkled her brow. Brittany only smiled again and tugged Santana towards her. Santana was careful to press herself against Brittany's good side, and did even that tenderly. Brittany wasn't sure if the drugs were kicking in that quickly or if it was the woman next to her but she felt incredibly happy for someone who had just had the shit beaten out of her. She ran a hand over Santana's hair, enjoying the way Santana snuggled closer. They lay there for a few minutes in comfortable quiet before Santana's phone rang.

She sat up to answer it, and turned slightly away from Brittany as she spoke into the phone. Brittany watched her back, the way her shoulder blades poked at her shirt as she hunched over.

"Hey baby," Santana said into the phone, trying to keep her voice low.

Brittany frowned, picturing Ricky's smug face on the other line.

"Uh huh, no no, I'm just out running errands, doing some shopping," Santana continued into the phone.

Brittany closed her eyes and sunk deeper into her bed. Her contentedness had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. She was jealous, she knew that. Jealous that Santana had someone else that called her, wondering where she was. Jealous that  _she_  was not the first and only person to call Santana, to worry about her. Brittany was pissed it was Ricky Betto, scum of the earth and Santana didn't even know the half of it. She was tired of this weird triangle that they'd formed. She was not usually a secretive person. She was simple, open, relatively friendly. Again she found herself wondering how her life had gotten so damn complicated.

Santana gave a few more "uh huh"s and "yeah"s before hitting the end button. She turned back to Brittany, her lips pursed.

"I've gotta go," she said quietly.

A million questions rushed to Brittany's lips, but she knew better than to ask any of them. Instead she nodded slowly, not really looking at Santana.

"I'll come back as soon as I can, okay?"

Brittany hated how helpless she felt. Stuck in her apartment, waiting for a woman who was not truly hers to come back to her after spending time with her boyfriend. The boyfriend who had had her mauled the night before. Santana sighed and leaned forward but hesitated. Brittany watched her chew her lip before quickly leaning all the way forward to kiss her. It was a quick kiss, but it settled Brittany's stomach slightly, like Santana knew how much this sucked, too.

"Try and get some rest," Santana commanded gently before standing up and leaving Brittany's room.

Brittany adjusted herself under the covers as she listened to Santana collect her things in the living room. Then the front door opened and closed, the lock turning after, leaving her to stew in solitary silence. She noticed her side wasn't killing her as much as it had been. Whether it was because she wasn't moving or because she had taken two pills instead of one, she couldn't tell, but she welcomed the sleepy wave that enveloped her. Brittany pulled the blanket up to her chin and let herself fall into a hazy sleep.

* * *

The clock in her room read 6 pm when Brittany was startled awake. She sat up abruptly, causing a sharp pain to tear through her side.

"Fuck!" she hissed as she clutched at her stomach with one hand while rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the other. She felt like she had woken up from a year-long nap.  _Maybe I'll stick with one pill next time_ , she thought groggily.

There was a loud knock on her front door which she assumed was what woke her in the first place. Brittany got out of bed slowly and gingerly pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. She hated how she'd become nearly immobile because of her injuries.

She made her way to the door, wondering who it was. Santana had her spare, and her mother had the other. Thinking of her mother sent a different pang of pain through her body. She hadn't talked to her mother or sister since before the match. She didn't want to scare them, but she also felt like she should let them know, somehow. She pushed the thought aside and opened the door.

Jack Donally stood solemnly in front of her, wearing his standard black suit with pale white stripes. Brittany opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"So you going to let me in or stand there catching flies?" Donally asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

Brittany stepped back into her apartment, motioning for Jack to come in.  _Shit_.

Donally walked in and turned around in Brittany's living room. She closed the door quickly and faced him. She decided to let him speak first. Donally looked around for a second before his eyes fell on Brittany.

"Where were you today?"

Brittany had known she wasn't going to get away with not showing at the gym. She would have called in to try and explain if she hadn't been passed out cold for most of the day. Now she scrambled for words.

"I was going to call and let you know, I -"

Donally held up a hand and shook his head. "Save it Pierce, you're a terrible liar. It's been a nice change a pace from most of the guys I've had come through my gym, so I'm going to save you the trouble of even trying."

Brittany gulped.

"I know what's going on," Donally's stare was hard but not angry. "Well, I figured it the second your match got changed to Gonzaga only a few days before the scheduled date."

"You - you...?" Brittany wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, or both. Relief crashed over her like a soothing wave on a hot day. She realized she was shaking and put a hand on the kitchen counter to steady herself. Someone knew. She was sure she was still in big fucking trouble, but someone else knew. Donally watched her closely. He was quiet and Brittany realized he was waiting for her to say something coherent.

"I'm sorry, I can explain, it -"

Donally cut her off again, which she was thankful for. "You were supposed to lose last night, weren't you?"

Brittany nodded, looking at the floor. Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes. Her relief was marred by guilt.

"Betto probably wasn't so thrilled when you kicked Gonzaga's ass, was he?" Donally continued. He was looking at her swollen cheek, which was a dark shade of purple and blue. Brittany shook her head. Finally she looked back up at Donally. She was surprised at how soft his features appeared. "What happened last night?"

He was leading her so easily Brittany wondered just how much he knew, and how.

"A guy - he had two guys beat the crap out of me, basically," Brittany finished lamely, her mind flashing back to the park the night before.

Donally whistled lowly. Brittany waited for him to ask why she didn't fight back, but he didn't. "What's the damage?"

"Two fractured ribs and major bruising on my back. And cheek, as you can see," she pointed to her face.

"Did you see a doctor?"

"Uh," Brittany paused. She didn't want Santana involved any more than she already was. "Yeah, already taken care of. I even got painkillers," Brittany wiggled her eyebrows, hoping to move Donally away from the subject of the doctor.

Donally rolled his eyes. "Good," he shifted his weight around before sighing. Brittany could tell he was thinking hard. "Alright, just, hang tight for me, okay?" He looked at her, somewhat exasperated. She nodded and shrugged.

"As in, don't leave your apartment much, don't tell anyone else about this, and  _don't_  go looking for Betto, whatever you do," he warned sternly. "I'm looking further into the matter, so just try and get better quickly, okay? I don't need you getting fat and out of shape because of this shit," He shook his head and moved towards the door.

Brittany resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She couldn't believe how well Donally was handling this. She had no idea just how much he knew, but he seemed pretty well-informed. She wondered if stuff like this had happened before.  _It must have, you can't be the first idiot to get caught up in something like this_ , she scolded herself.

"Hey, Jack," Brittany touched his broad shoulder gently. He turned to look at her, his hand already on the door. "Thank you," she said. He just sighed again and nodded before he pulled the door open and left.

Brittany sank back against the counter, processing what just happened. Someone knew. And not just someone, a  _big_  someone. She felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her. Her mind fell to Wes. Did he know? What'd Donally tell him? Or had he been the one to tell Donally she wasn't at the gym? Brittany felt guilt wash over her again. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and felt her stomach rumble. She realized she hadn't eaten all day.

Standing in front of her fridge Brittany saw that Santana had bought her some basic raw ingredients, but she laughed at the prepackaged dinners that were sitting in her freezer. She pulled some cheesy-veggie-dish from the freezer and unwrapped it before popping it into the microwave.

While her dinner turned in the microwave, Brittany found the bottle of painkillers and picked two pills out before deciding to stick with one this time around. She still felt groggy from the two she took earlier that day. She gulped the pill down without water just as the microwave beeped.

Brittany sat down to eat her dinner and her mind raced, her hyper thoughts clearing the cobwebs the painkillers had left. Now that she knew she had to lay low, she wanted to do nothing more than just the opposite. The restlessness that already twitched in her was begging to be acted on. She knew she really couldn't though, and it frustrated her even more.

After she finished she reclined in her seat, wincing and sitting up again after pain flared in her back. The quiet of her apartment was interrupted with another knock on the door.  _Now what?_  Brittany ran her tongue over her teeth as she got up.

She moved to the door slowly, wondering when her apartment became a train station.  _When you went and got yourself trapped here with two fractured ribs and a relatively powerful man somewhere out there who wants you in pain_ , a voice chided in the back of her mind. Brittany opened the door and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Two police officers stood in her hallway. They were dressed in street clothes but Brittany's eyes caught the badges clipped to their belts.  _Well this is a first_ , Brittany thought, caught somewhere between amused and worried.

"Hello officers, ah, how can I help you?"

"Brittany Pierce?" The female officer asked. Brittany nodded.

"I'm Detective Sawyer, and this is my partner, Detective Luden. Can you step outside with us for a second?"

Brittany shrugged and stepped out into the hallway, leaving her door partially opened behind her. Maybe they're here about last night? Brittany wondered. But how would they know anything? She was about to ask what was going on but before she could get a word out the male officer grabbed her wrist and turned her sharply around.

"Ow, hey!" Brittany's eyes widened at the abrupt turn of events. She felt cool metal lock around her wrist as the detective pulled her other arm behind her back to lock in the other handcuff.

"Brittany Pierce, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit fraud. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights?"

 _This can't be happening. This has to be a joke_. Brittany felt herself break into a cold sweat. She was being arrested...for conspiracy to commit fraud? This had to be a prank. Unless this had to do with Ricky.  _This has everything to do with Ricky, you idiot_ , a voice hissed in the back of her mind. The metal around her wrists felt cold and yet it seemed to scald her skin.

"Do you understand?" The male officer repeated.

Brittany cleared her throat. "Y-yes," she croaked, her mouth suddenly bone dry. The officer steered her towards the elevator. He had his hand on her arm, guiding her on one side while his partner walked on her other side.

"Wait!" Brittany cried, losing the fight against the hysteria that bubbled in her chest. "Can you at least close my fucking door?" She hadn't meant to curse. Could that be used against her in court? She couldn't afford an attorney. Was she going to get some shitty state-appointed attorney? Her mind churned out questions faster than she could process them.

The female officer shot her partner a look before turning back to close Brittany's door. They continued walking towards the elevator and Brittany frantically searched her mind for anything to make this stop - anything to get out of these handcuffs and back into her apartment. Anything to rewind the past five minutes that felt like an eternity and the blink of an eye at once.

She flexed her hands and felt the cold handcuffs rub against her skin. The quiet clink of the chain between each cuff around her wrists taunted her. The male detective,  _Luden, was it?_ pushed the down button on the elevator. She wished they'd speak at least - the silence made everything worse.

The three of them rode down the elevator and crossed the small lobby out onto the street. Brittany thanked whatever higher powers above that none of her neighbors were out and about. She gulped as the detectives led her towards the police car parked across the street. Under different circumstances, Brittany would have been excited to ride in a cop cruiser. But now, as the male officer dipped her head gently while guiding her into the backseat, she would have done anything to be anywhere else.

Brittany looked back out the window at her apartment building, watching it disappear from view as the car pulled away from the curb and sped down the street.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Boxing is the toughest and loneliest sport in the world." - Frank Bruno

She'd never been inside the police station downtown. It was a pretty big building, all intimidating brick and stone and drab, worn down colors. She got a few stares as the detectives walked her through the building and she kept her head down. This is so fucked up, she thought to herself. Her body hurt despite the painkiller she had taken, and she just wanted to get out of handcuffs and back into her bed.

Luden tightened his grip on Brittany's arm as he guided her into a small, windowless room. There was a table and four chairs, two on each side of the table. That was the only furniture in the room. Brittany frowned. Didn't these things usually have two-way mirrors or something? She thought back to the few cop movies she'd watched with her dad when she was younger.

The female detective, Sawyer, led Brittany to the side of the table closer to the back wall and sat her down. Then she leaned over and undid the handcuffs around her wrists before walking to the other side of the table and sitting down. Her partner leaned against the wall closest to the door, eying Brittany critically as she rubbed her wrists, red from where the cuffs had irritated them.

"Miss Pierce, you're a boxer, correct?" The woman asked.

Brittany nodded, wincing and trying to shift her weight in her chair to reduce the now white hot pain in her side.

"So how do you know Ricardo Betto?"

Brittany tried to keep her facial expression neutral despite her surprise at the question. Her mind raced. She hadn't prepared for this - she hadn't prepared for any of this, really. She was under arrest for conspiracy to commit fraud and she barely had any idea what that meant, but she assumed it had to do with Ricky. Brittany looked from the detective sitting across from her to the one standing near the door.

"I - I want a lawyer," she said quietly but firmly. Her cheek hurt when she spoke. Besides the two-way mirror, asking for a lawyer was one of the few things she remembered from the cop movies. A voice in her mind laughed at her because she had always thought the person who asked for a lawyer in the movies looked super guilty. Well, technically you are guilty, she answered herself.

Luden stifled a groan as he stood off the wall, meeting his partners eyes as she turned back towards him, jerking her head towards the door. He left, closing the door behind him. The woman turned back to study Brittany carefully.

"How much were you making per fight?" She leaned back in her chair smugly. Brittany licked her lips but stayed quiet. A small frown tugged at her lips. The detective remained quiet for a few more minutes.

Brittany wondered what her lawyer would be like. Hopefully they were good. She wasn't going to write them off just because they were appointed by the state to the losers who couldn't afford 'good' lawyers, but it still made her nervous. Technically, she could probably afford a really good lawyer. But she'd have to dip into the money Betto'd given her, and she couldn't imagine that looking good in a courthouse.

After a long stretch of silence, Sawyer leaned forward and stood up. "You must not be making a lot if you're taking bribes," she nearly sneered. Brittany opened her mouth but the door burst open, startling both of them.

"My client asked for a lawyer, so why are you still asking her questions?" A woman in a snug business suit asked as she strode into the room. She had light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a pair of glasses that squared her face nicely. Brittany noted that she looked worn out. She couldn't have been much older than 30, but Brittany assumed being a lawyer led to an eternally tired look. The detective rolled her eyes and sat back down as her partner resumed his spot against the wall. The lawyer sat down in the chair next to Brittany. Her eyes roamed over Brittany's face quickly, taking in the bruising and swollen cheek before turning back to the detectives.

"Always a pleasure to see you too, Julia," The female detective muttered.

Her lawyer, Julia, gave the officer a tilt of her head accompanied with a sarcastic smile. She placed a manilla folder on the table and opened in, studying the papers within. "So, you going to finish filling me in Todd, or keep pullling the funny business you guys are used to?"

Brittany looked from Julia to the male officer, torn between applauding and laughing. Before either of the officers could speak, Julia looked up again.

"Actually, can I have a moment with Brittany alone?"

The detectives both pursed their lips and left the room. Julia turned to Brittany in her chair. She stuck out her hand, which Brittany took firmly, gritting her teeth behind closed lips as she tried to smile against the pain in her side. "Brittany Pierce? Julia Riter. I'll be defending you against the charges of..." She looked over the papers in the folder. "The charge of conspiracy to commit fraud. Really not that terrible of a charge, but maybe you should tell me a bit about what's going on."

Brittany nodded, eager to get this mess fixed up. She relaxed at Julia's patient smile. As far as public defenders went, Brittany assumed she had lucked out landing this one. "Well, I'm a professional boxer, and I -"

Julia held up a hand without looking at Brittany. She was still looking over the files in the manilla folder.

"Actually, better yet Brittany, maybe don't tell me everything. We'll get the detectives back in here and let them ask you questions. Before you answer them, just whisper your answer to me, and I'll let you know if you can tell them, okay? I just ask that you be honest with me. That way, I can do my job to the best of my ability, and that'll be best for you in the long run, 'kay?"

Brittany nodded again. Julia was on her side, and she was rolling with whatever the woman told her to do. Julia got up and went to the door, motioning for the detectives to come back in.

They seemed annoyed, but the female officer resumed her questioning. "So how do you know Ricardo Betto?"

Brittany looked to Julia and leaned over, whispering in her ear. Julia nodded and held up one finger to Brittany, telling her to wait.

"What does the charge of 'conspiracy to commit fraud' have to do with my client's relationship with Ricardo Betto?"

Luden scoffed. "It has everything to do with Betto. We have her on record with Betto, taking bribes and throwing professional boxing matches so he can turn a profit with a bunch of bookies, robbing hundreds if not thousands of idiot gamblers blind!"

Julia raised her eyebrows. "And you have this all on record? I'd like to see those if they're pertinent to my client's case."

The man frowned and his partner threw him a look. He opened his mouth to respond but she cut him off. "Look, we've got enough to put her away," she motioned towards Brittany. "But we'd like to ask her a few questions, and frankly, she hasn't said a single word yet, and we'd like to give her the opportunity to defend herself. That's usually something that happens in the justice system, is it not, Riter?"

Brittany watched on, unsure if she'd even be able to talk if someone let her. She felt like she was in a movie, but one more serious yet entertaining than the other ones she'd seen. With every word out of Julia's mouth she let herself get more and more hopeful that she might get out of this mess with minimal damage.

Julia chuckled. "Don't try and play that game with me, Marissa. I know exactly how the system works, and I'm here to make sure it goes smoothly and fairly."

The women glared at each other and Brittany got the feeling they butted heads often. Finally Luden broke the silence. "Alright, okay, it's getting friggin' late already and I want to get home to my family at a reasonable hour."

His partner and Julia broke their stares and looked at him. Brittany eyed him curiously. He took a deep breath and continued.

"We've got evidence on your client," he said the word "client" with a certainn level of disdain. "But, we're really looking to get Betto. We'd be willing to drop the charge to a small slap on the wrist or even drop them completely if you cooperate." He looked pointedly at Brittany.

"Todd..." His partner gave him a look, like maybe he'd folded their hand too early in the game. Brittany ignored their looks.

"I'll do it," she blurted. Julia's head snapped towards Brittany's.

"Brittany, wait -"

"I'll do it - I'll give you Betto, just let me out of this mess," Brittany was looking back and forth between the detectives. She'd hand them Ricky on a silver platter if meant she'd be free of this headache.

"What my client means is that we'd like to see this all in writing before we agree to cooperate," Julia put a hand across Brittany's chest, silently instructing her to sit back and be quiet. Brittany took the hint and leaned back, still smiling slightly. Her mind ran with the idea of putting this all behind her. She thought about maybe even moving away, starting somewhere completely fresh with her mother and sister. She could get a job doing something...anything that didn't involved fighting. The sound of Julia and the detectives speaking broke her from her thoughts.

"...alright, so once you get someone to write this up, we'll come in tomorrow, look at it - if it's kosher we'll sign it, and Brittany will tell you everything she knows." Julia looked from Brittany back to the detectives. "And nothing she says regarding your efforts to catch Betto can be held against her," she raised her eyebrows and the detectives nodded.

"Good, what do we say, 10 o'clock back here tomorrow morning?"

"How do we know she's not going to run?" Luden's eyes were narrowed as he looked at Brittany.

"I'm going to get off the hook if I help you where do you think -"

Julia cut Brittany off, throwing her a warning glance. "Well you're not keeping her here overnight, but if you want to insure she's back here tomorrow, even though I fully believe she'd be here early of her own free well, let's get something written and signed now, so we can all sleep easy?"

Sawyer grunted in agreement and stood up. "I'll find someone to write something up now. Julia, I'm assuming you'd like to be a part of this?"

"You know me so well, Marissa," Julia smirked and stood to follow the detective. "Don't say anything," she warned Brittany with a quick glare. Brittany nodded furiously. The women left the room and Brittany looked down at the table, ignoring the way the male detective watched her.

Suddenly she felt nervous. She hated that. She never felt nervous around men before, and this guy was a freaking cop. She had agreed to help him, it wasn't like he was going to beat anything out of her. He wasn't about to attack her. Still, Brittany was relieved when after what felt like an eternity, Julia and the detective came back into the room.

The paper Julia placed in front of Brittany was still warm from the printer, and Brittany looked it over. The print took up nearly the whole sheet and Brittany barely understood half of it.

"So, this is okay to sign?" She looked up at Julia who was rereading it over her shoulder.

"Yeah, it's good to go. It just says what we've already covered." Julia handed her a pen. "Whenever you're ready," she smiled warmly.

Brittany looked back down at the paper and signed where there was a small 'x'. The female detective had already signed, and Julia took the paper from Brittany and signed on another line.

"Good," she smiled at the detectives. "Now I'd just like a copy, and then we'll see you tomorrow." She handed the paper to Sawyer and motioned for Brittany to get up.

"So, wait - I'm free to go now?" Brittany asked.

Julia chuckled. "Yes, you just have to be back here tomorrow at 10 a.m. Don't be late."

Brittany stood up and bit back a whimper at the searing pain in her side. Julia didn't miss the grimace. Her eyes flicked to Brittany's cheek again and then down to where Brittany's hand had rested on her side. The detectives had already left the room and Brittany stood up straight, trying to play it off.

"Hey - you alright?"

"Yeah, just, boxing injuries. Rough last match." Brittany gave Julia an unconvincing smile but the lawyer nodded.

"Okay, well then, I'll walk you out."

The women walked through the quieted police station towards the front double doors. There were a few cabs idling outside but Brittany felt at her pockets and remembered she didn't have her wallet. She pictured it sitting on the kitchen counter. Hope nobody broke into my apartment tonight, she thought darkly, anger flaring again at the abrupt way the detectives had taken her from her apartment.

"Here," Julia had fished out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to Brittany.

"No, I can't, thank you - I'll just walk home." Brittany shook her head.

"With the way you're clutching at your side, I don't think that's a good idea." Julia held the bill out again. "If you want to, you can pay me back tomorrow."

Brittany sighed. "Thank you," she said as she accepted the bill. "And I will pay you back tomorrow,"

"No worries either way," Julia called after Brittany as she moved towards a cab. Brittany slipped into the backseat and gave the driver her address. She watched Julia turn back into the building as the cab pulled away from the sidewalk. It was a short drive back to her apartment since there were barely any other cars on the road.

Back in her apartment, Brittany did a quick check to make sure nothing was missing. She didn't have much, but she was satisfied when it seemed that everything was still there. Exhausted from the day and late night, she took another painkiller and went to brush her teeth.

Once in her room she pulled off her clothes and set her alarm for the morning before slipping into bed. Too tired to even give the events of the day any more thought, Brittany fell asleep almost immediately after her head hit the pillow.

The next morning was one of the most draining experiences of Brittany's life, and that was with counting all the exhausting moments in her boxing career. She had barely woken up to her alarm, but managed to get herself together and make it down to the police station by 9:55 a.m. Her head and body ached as she waited in the busy lobby but she smiled when Julia greeted her and lead her further into the station. They were in a different room this time, and the detectives asked Brittany tons of questions as they wrote everything she said down. They also had a recorder on the table between them.

Julia sat next to Brittany, and Brittany whispered all her answers into her ear before Julia cleared what she could say. Brittany told them everything except for the parts about her and Santana, and the part about Betto beating the crap out of her. She didn't want to drag Santana into this anymore than she already might be, and she stubbornly didn't want to talk about the events in the park the other night. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she figured Ricky was already in enough shit and an added charge of assault wouldn't do much. She also just hated thinking about it, and didn't want to have to talk about it.

From what the detectives hinted at, it seemed like Brittany was not the only boxer involved. They didn't mention any names, or really let on any details, but Brittany wondered who else Betto had dealt with.

After hours of talking herself hoarse, the detectives had scanned their notes before telling Brittany she was good to go. They said they'd contact her when she needed to testify and that it would probably be in a few weeks. Brittany had stuttered as she stood - testify? As in court?

The detectives had nodded, Julia too, as if it was obvious. But Brittany couldn't; she couldn't handle a courtroom, everyone watching her, Ricky included. Would Santana be there? Would there be reporters with cameras and shouted questions? What about Donally and Wes? Her mother and sister? It was too much. Julia had rested a hand on her shoulder, seeing the nervousness in her face, and explained it might not even go to trial. There were always pleas and deals being made.

Luden had snorted, muttering about how he'd be damned if Betto didn't see the inside of a courtroom, but Julia shot him a tired look. She reassured Brittany that no matter what happened, she'd be safe.

But Brittany didn't care about 'safe'. Brittany cared about the publicity, the unwanted attention. And well, her family's safety, but she figured they'd be fine, especially if all of them moved after this was all over. Or maybe she'd even have them move sooner, and she'd meet up with them after this all ended. All she knew was that her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of being called to the witness stand.

Brittany had left the station tired and worried. When she got home she took another painkiller and got into bed, her body craving sleep. She knew she'd have to contact everyone soon, as much as she'd like to just bury herself in her bed and disappear. She hadn't spoken to her mother or Kait in a while, and she wanted to check in with Wes and Donally as well. She also thought about Santana, and how this would all play out. Her head pounded and rolled over, trying to shake her worries. With nowhere to go and no immediate plans, she let her eyes close heavily as she snuggled under her covers.

/

She was disoriented when she woke up. Her apartment was dark and the sun had gone down. Brittany rubbed her eyes and rolled over. She froze when she heard her front door close and keys drop on her kitchen counter. She guessed that that was what had woken her. Brittany stretched in her bed, instantly regretting it when her ribs ached.

Her bedroom door swung open and Santana flipped the light on. Brittany whined at the burst of light and shielded her eyes as she sat up slightly, resting against the headboard of her bed. After a few seconds she lowered her arm, squinting as she adjusted to the light.

"Hey," she greeted groggily, her eyes finding Santana's. She noticed the woman was upset the second their eyes met. "Santana, what's wrong?"

"Ricky got arrested a couple of hours ago."

Brittany only stared at Santana, suddenly feeling very alert.

"For rigging boxing matches," Santana nearly hissed the last two words as tears brimmed in her eyes. Brittany nearly fell out of bed she got out of it so quickly.

"Fuck," she cursed, her body not forgetting her two broken ribs as she moved. She approached Santana, who shirked away from her slightly. Brittany stopped.

"Santana, I -"

"Is that what was going on between you? You were helping him by throwing matches? Was he paying you well? And...and, I was cheating on him with you all while you were doing this shady business with him..." Santana neared hysteria, her voice trailing off as she got choked up.

Brittany wanted to pull her into her arms, but knew Santana wouldn't let her. She didn't know what to say.

"This is all so...this is just all so fucked up," Santana wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I can explain, Santana," Brittany said, wondering how and what she would explain, exactly. She stepped closer and Santana snapped her head up, watery brown eyes narrowing as they found Brittany's.

"No, I - I don't even know why I came over. I don't know what else I expected," Santana shook her head.

"Santana, I didn't want you to find out this way -"

"Oh, well how were you going to tell me then, huh? Just casually bring it up, like 'oh p.s. I'm helping ruin both my career and your boyfriend's, while dragging your name into this, and possibly even your father's'? Just like that, Brittany?"

Brittany opened her mouth to say something but instead let her gaze fall to the ground. She didn't think there was anything she could say that could calm Santana down, not that she could really blame her.

"I can't say anything that'll make you feel better right now, but I'd really like - can I please hug you?" Brittany looked back up at Santana. She was desperate to touch the woman, even while it felt like whatever they had was falling apart, she needed to feel her body pressed against hers. She thought maybe the contact would help, maybe somehow, it'd make everything else fade away.

Santana's features softened for a split second before she shook her head.

"No Britt, you can't."

Hot tears threatened the corners of Brittany's eyes. She felt like an idiot. Maybe this was all just a nightmare. Maybe she was still sleeping, and this was just the drugs giving her weird dreams. She sniffed and looked away again.

"I need to go," Santana said, her voice a lot softer than it had been a few moments ago. "I need to go see what's going on with Ricky, and then I need to get away from this for a little."

Brittany barely heard what Santana was saying. She had done the right thing at the police station that morning, but it still felt awful now that Santana was so upset.

"Your key's on the counter," Santana murmured.

Brittany looked up again, catching Santana's eyes before she turned from the room. It was a sad sort of comfort to see that her gaze was gentle, as if maybe Brittany was pathetic enough that Santana's anger had faded into pity. Santana licked her lips before turning around and leaving the room. Brittany stood frozen, the front door slamming shut after Santana, leaving her in the loudest silence she'd ever known.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's just a job. Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up." - Muhammad Ali

Brittany hadn't slept well that night. The events of the day before kept her tossing and turning in her sleep, waking her every few hours. She finally got out of bed as light started peeking through her window and padded into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. She ignored the soreness in her body, only throwing a passing glance at the pill bottle sitting on the counter as she left the bathroom.

 _Feeling like a bit of a masochist, are we now_ , a voice grumbled in the back of her mind. Brittany bit her lip and bent slowly over the fridge, looking for something to eat. She pulled out the carton of eggs Santana had bought for her.  _I can't screw up scrambled eggs, right?_

After picking a few shell pieces out of the frying pan, Brittany managed to make herself breakfast. She sat down gingerly with her plate and only got one bite in before her duck phone quacked. Wondering who was calling so early in the morning, she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

Donally's voice assaulted her ear, loud and gruff. "I see you've been busy since I left. Just keep me out of this, okay?"

Brittany only blinked, chewing a little bit of scrambled eggs.  _What was he talking about?_

"Did you see the paper this morning?" Donally questioned Brittany's silence.

"No," Brittany answered, worry now tugging at the back of her mind.

"Go pick it up," Donally said before hanging up.

Brittany put the phone down and went down to the lobby to pick up her copy of the paper. It was rolled up in plastic and she waited till she was back in her apartment to open it. Sitting back down and taking another forkful of eggs, Brittany opened up the paper and nearly choked.

Every article on the front page related to Ricky's arrest somehow, whether it was about his arrest, his political campaign, or the sport of boxing itself. The information was ambiguous for the most part, because the police refused to release the details of the arrest, and obviously Betto wasn't saying anything. Brittany groaned when she saw the line that read 'Senator Lopez could not be reached for comment'. She knew Ricky had been buddying up to Santana's father, and she was sure the senator would try to cut all ties with Ricky because he'd been arrested.

There was no mention of Santana, and for that Brittany felt a small wave of relief among the larger ones of anxiety. She looked at the paper for a little longer before pushing it away and focusing on her eggs. Once she finished she picked up the phone and dialed the phone sitting on Donally's desk. He answered on the third ring.

"I saw the paper," Brittany said.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Is Wes around?" She wanted to talk to him. She still felt incredibly guilty and wanted to apologize, but didn't think she could stomach it face to face. Just picturing the hurt or disappointment in Wes' eyes made her stomach twist.  _Coward_. She heard Donally suck in a breath between his teeth.

"Hang on,"

Brittany waited, eyes flickering over the paper on the table. Donally came back on the line.

"He's busy,"

"'Kay, I'll try later."

"Alright. And just remember, keep me out of this shit," Donally warned again.

"Yeah yeah," Brittany sighed before hanging up.

She sat for a second before clearing her plate. She wondered if Wes was actually busy or if he didn't want to talk to her. She hoped it wasn't the second. It was plausible - it wasn't like she was the only boxer he trained - but it was also just as plausible that he didn't want to talk to her.

Brittany picked up the phone again, this time dialing her mother's apartment. As the phone rang she realized she had no idea what her mother's hours were recently and whether she'd be home or not. Kait was probably getting ready for school or already at school at this point.

"Hello?"

"Hey mom," Brittany smiled, happy to hear her mother's voice.

"Well hello there stranger, long time no speak."

Brittany closed her eyes, fighting the now near regular wave of guilt that hovered above her. "Sorry about that," she sighed.  _It's for the best_ , she thought to herself. She couldn't imagine telling her mom or sister what'd she'd been through recently. She decided to focus on the future.

"Mom, what do you think about - I'm thinking about moving. I need a fresh start, I can't do this boxing thing anymore."

"Britt, is everything okay? I know you never really wanted to get into boxing, but you've seemed relatively content since." Brittany could hear her mother's concern. It was the first time they'd ever really talked about her "career" and it was soothing to hear her mom ask her about it.

"I know, but, I've saved up a bit and it's just been a lot to handle. I need something else."

Her mother was quiet so Brittany went on.

"But I also don't want to be so far from you and Kait."

"Hon, you know we can't afford to move. The time it'll take for me to look for another job would kill us,"

"What if I could help you?" Brittany was quick to jump in. "I've really got a lot saved up," she emphasized.

"I'll think about it, 'kay? I'll also have to talk about it with Kait, though I'm sure she'll want to be wherever you are," her mother said. "She looks up to you, you know."

Brittany smiled. "'Cause I'm taller than she is," she joked back.

"You know what I mean,"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, come say 'hi' soon, I only have older pictures and I'm starting to forget what you look like when you're not eating ice cream before a boxing match," her mother chuckled, but there was something sad behind the laugh that squeezed Brittany's heart.

"'Kay mom, love you. And think about what I suggested,"

"Will do," her mother said before hanging up. Brittany put the phone down and sat back on the couch. She figured it was now an acceptable time in the morning to call other people, but she dreaded her next call. Finally she picked the phone back up and dialed slowly. The phone rang and went to voicemail.

She hadn't expected Santana to pick up, given the fact that her cell had caller id and she would know it was Brittany calling. As Santana's voicemail ran, Brittany scrambled to put a coherent thought together.  _I should have written something down!_ The message ended with the beep, and Brittany took a deep breath.

"Hey Santana, it's Brittany, though you probably already know that with your newfangled caller id and whatnot." Brittany let out a meager laugh before pressing on. "Well, I just wanted to call and apologize again and...I really want to talk to you and try and explain everything. And I miss you in general...I dunno, just...please give me a call back when you get this? Thanks."

Brittany hung up the phone feeling stupid. She wished she knew where Santana lived so she could go all rom-com on her and show up at her doorstep.  _Just another opportunity to feel like an idiot. Or to get arrested again_ , her thoughts mocked.

She yawned, tired from her poor night's sleep. She didn't want to sleep now though, because that would just mess up her sleep schedule even more. Instead she went to the bathroom and gulped down a painkiller because her ribs were finally aching enough for her to give in.

She decided to shower to help wake her up a little. The warm water rushing over her body was soothing, and Brittany stayed in the shower until the hot water faltered and started getting cold. Afterwards she slipped into a t-shirt and sweats and grabbed her book from her room before plopping back down on the couch.

**/**

The day had passed by uneventfully. Painfully so, in Brittany's opinion. She had spent it reading - and looking up at her duck phone every few pages, willing it to ring. She also managed to clean up a little, the medicine helping her move a bit more freely than she might have otherwise. It had finally gotten late enough that she decided to let herself sleep, figuring her body would make up for the other night, and that she'd get a solid night's sleep.

Just like she hoped, Brittany got into bed and was asleep in mere minutes after her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The day after was just as dull, and Brittany was really starting to itch. She'd never spent this much time in her apartment - feeling useless and cooped up and unable to do much of anything. She had picked up the paper again. Only one article was about Betto, and it was just a recap of the what was written about the day before.

Brittany wanted to go visit her sister and mother, but as much as she itched to get out of the apartment, she worried she might miss something. Or someone might miss her. At this point in time there were a bunch of people who might need to reach her, but Brittany was only really waiting for one.

She had called Santana again, leaving another rambling message when she got voicemail.  _You're never going to get her to talk to you if you keep leaving her these idiotic messages_ , Brittany shook her head at herself.

* * *

 _Third time's a charm_ , Brittany thought as she dialed Santana's number the next day. The phone started ringing and Brittany started planning a coherent message she could leave. Three days of bumbling messages wouldn't do. She heard a click on the line.

"Hello?"

Brittany's heart skipped a beat. She didn't speak, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her, but Santana's voice came across the line again.

"Hello?"

"H-Hi," Brittany stammered, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. She'd finally been planning a simple message to leave, not expecting Santana to pick up, but well, now she had Santana and she didn't know what to say.

Santana was quiet, waiting for Brittany to continue.

"Wow, um, didn't expect you to answer."

"I can hang up if you'd like," Santana deadpanned.

 _Ouch_. "Uh, no, no definitely don't do that," Brittany went on. "Can we talk? I'd prefer in person, but over the phone's good too. I really want to talk to you, Santana."

Santana sighed. "Okay," she murmured.

Brittany fist pumped before doubling over in pain at the sharp movements. She bit her lip to keep from groaning and returned her attention to the phone.

"I'm staying at my dad's apartment downtown. Let me give you the address."

Brittany quickly scribbled the address down. "I'll come over soon, 'kay?"

"'Kay," Santana agreed. "I'll tell the doorman to let you in."

Brittany hung up and got dressed as fast as she could before heading downstairs to grab a cab. She worried the whole drive over. What would she say? What would Santana say? Would her dad be there? Brittany gnawed her bottom lip.

The cab pulled up in front of a luxurious apartment building and Brittany paid the cabbie. As he counted out her change, she peered out at the glass windows that showed into the lobby.  _Bit nicer than my place_ , she thought as she thanked the driver and got out of the car.

It was starting to get dark out but the doorman smiled at Brittany as she approached.

"Lopez residence?"

She smiled and nodded.

"I'll send you up," he held the door open for her, and followed her in towards the elevator. When the doors opened he stepped inside and stuck a small key into the panel before hitting the button that read "PH".

"Thanks," Brittany nodded as he stepped back out of the elevator.  _Penthouse, not really surprising I guess_. The elevator barely made a sound as she felt it rise. A few moments later, the doors were opening into a lush, open living room.

Brittany's eyes widened as she moved into the apartment. There was a kitchen with marble counters and appliances that shone with a "just for show" kind of feel to her left, and a hallway further back and to her right.

"Santana?" She called out somewhat timidly. She took another step into the apartment and jumped a little when Santana came down the hall.

Santana smiled. "Jumpy?"

Brittany just smiled weakly and followed Santana over towards a plush couch against a wall that was mostly a large window, allowing for a great view of the city below. Santana sat and Brittany sat about half a cushion away, unsure of how close or far was okay. She didn't know where to start. Santana was looking at the floor, a small scowl on her face.

"Have you seen Ricky?" She asked tentatively, surprised that that was the first question out her mouth. Santana was too. Brittany scolded herself silently.

"Um, yeah. He's being held because the judge ruled him a flight risk, but I got to see him the other day." Santana looked up at Brittany, her brown eyes soft; tired.

"Look, Santana, I -"

"You know how fucked up this is, right?" Santana cut over Brittany, and Brittany could only watch as Santana stood to pace the floor in front of her. "I know Ricky's an ass. I didn't realize he was pulling this stuff, but I knew he wasn't the clean cut guy he presented himself as. I didn't realize you were in on it too." The disappointment in Santana's voice made Brittany's throat tighten.

"And I still care about him, and now he's in jail, and my dad, who is never around, and who was the person to suggest we even go on a date anyway, is telling me I should dump him, because, you know, 'it's bad for business now'," Santana took a deep breath. Brittany stood and grabbed her by the wrist, turning her to face her. Santana was surprised but didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," Brittany barely spoke above a whisper. She was so elated to even be touching Santana again she wasn't sure she could speak. She slipped her hand down to lace her fingers with Santana's. Again, Santana didn't pull away - she only looked down at their hands before looking back up at Brittany.

"Ricky approached me," Brittany began, her voice steady. "He offered me a lot of money to lose a fight. He knew stuff about my family, and it was scary and totally stupid of me, but I was only thinking of my sister. And my mom." She licked her lips.

"And I tried to end it, because I felt terrible, and I hated it. But when I tried to end it, he - well - he said I couldn't just walk away from it." Santana was watching her closely and Brittany felt her heart stutter, its usually steady beat accelerating. "I didn't want any of this to happen, things got out of control, and - I'm really sorry," she finished lamely, giving Santana's hand a small squeeze.

Something dark shaded Santana's eyes and her forehead wrinkled. "Did he...that night, after you beat Gonzaga again...Were you supposed to win or lose?"

Brittany froze, not wanting to talk about it. She hadn't mentioned it because she didn't want to add fuel to the fire, and the soreness in her face, back, and side was enough of a reminder. Santana's eyes flickered to her cheek, which was now it's normal size, but still bruised.

"He did this to you, didn't he," she breathed.

Brittany only turned her face away, staring at the couch as she felt Santana untangle their hands to reach up and cup her other cheek. She turned into Santana's touch, her heart thumping hard in her chest as Santana's thumb brushed across her lips. Brittany risked meeting Santana's eyes, dark brown and clouded with tears. She felt herself lean forward slightly, eyes flickering from Santana's eyes to her lips and back again. Brittany had never wanted to kiss someone as badly as she wanted to kiss Santana right then, but she waited.

Santana ran her thumb across Brittany's lips again, her eyes watching the way her finger moved across soft pink flesh. Then she leaned forward, tilting her head and catching Brittany's lips eagerly. Brittany was barely aware of the way she wrapped Santana up in her arms, pulling her closer. She was only aware of kissing Santana, of Santana kissing her back, their lips pressed hungrily together.

Brittany opened her mouth against Santana's, flicking her tongue out across Santana's bottom lip. Santana let out a sigh as she allowed Brittany's tongue to explore her mouth, her own arms snaking around Brittany, her hands resting on her lower back. Brittany wanted to get lost in Santana. She was so relieved to have spoken with her, and to tell her everything, and to feel Santana against her again - her mind cleared itself, only leaving room for the woman in her arms.

Eventually Santana pulled back slightly, breathing hard as Brittany bumped noses affectionately. Santana's eyes were closed but she smiled. They stood together quietly, just wrapped up in each other's arms.

Suddenly, the soft chime of the elevator went off, and Santana pushed back from Brittany abruptly. Brittany felt her body tense up. The doors opened and a tall, thick man in a suit walked into the apartment.

"Santana,  _chica_ , want to order something for dinner? I'm starved," the man put his briefcase on the kitchen island, his face turning from tired to surprised when he looked up at Santana and Brittany.

"Oh, you didn't mention you had company," he eyed Brittany curiously, and Brittany felt like she was staring back at the male version of Santana in 30 years.

Santana was still breathy when she answered her father. "Dad, I haven't seen you in a few days...'hello' to you too," she smiled dryly. "And this is my friend, Brittany."

"Brittany, this is my father, Senator George Lopez." Santana's face was unreadable.

"Nice to meet you sir," Brittany smiled, unsure if she should try to shake his hand or not. She didn't like the way he was looking at her.

"Nice to meet you, Brittany." Santana's father looked from Santana to Brittany, his eyes lingering on the blonde. "You look familiar...where have I seen you before?"

"Um, well, I'm a boxer," Brittany offered, not sure if she should have. The senators eyes lit up.

"Ah, that's it," but his face darkened just as quickly as the recognition had come. No doubt he was thinking of the week's headlines. Santana used the lull in the conversation to change course.

"Brittany, I'll walk you out."

Brittany nodded, eager to get out from under Santana's father's scrutiny. Santana started walking towards the door and Brittany moved with her.

"And Dad, just order whatever you feel like having, I'll have whatever," Santana threw over her shoulder.

In the elevator Brittany turned to Santana. "I thought you said your dad is never around?"

"He isn't," Santana sighed. "At least not until I'm making out with a woman in his living room, it seems." She gave Brittany a small, tired smile.

They stepped out into the lobby and Santana pulled Brittany off to the side by the mailboxes, out of view from the doorman and the street. The lobby was quiet, and Santana leaned against the wall. Brittany stepped closer to her so that her body was nearly pressed flush against Santana's smaller frame.

"I'm sorry I was mad at you," Santana mumbled, her hands coming up to toy with the collar of Brittany's shirt.

Brittany shook her head. "You had every right to be. I was an idiot. I have a list of people I have to apologize to, actually," Brittany thought of Wes, mostly. "This situation was really messed up. Is really messed up."

Santana nodded, eyes focused on her fingers, toying with the fabric of Brittany's shirt, occasionally brushing against smooth skin.

"I just didn't want to mess things up with you," Brittany continued, her eyes meeting Santana's as she looked up sharply at Brittany's words. "Cause, you know, you're super hot." Brittany bit her lip as Santana nudged her and rolled her eyes.

"And yeah, well, I really like you," Brittany's tone was serious again, her voice soft.

"I really like you too," Santana whispered back, tilting her head up.

Brittany was the one to close the gap this time, meeting Santana's slightly parted lips with her own. Even the smallest kiss with Santana was intoxicating, and she forced herself to pull back soon after, keeping the kiss relatively chaste.

"I should go back upstairs," Santana said after a moment.

"'Kay"

"I'll call you, okay? I just, need to sort some stuff out..." Santana's brow furrowed.

"Sounds good. You know where to find me." Brittany dipped her head, stealing a quick peck from Santana before she stepped back. They walked back out into the lobby and Santana gave Brittany a small wave before pressing the elevator button. Brittany returned the wave and turned towards the front door. The doorman opened it for her, asking her if she'd like him to hail a cab. She smiled, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in what felt like centuries, and told him yes, that'd be lovely.

As she waited for a cab, she turned around to see Santana disappear into the elevator. Brittany thought about the man in the apartment above and wrinkled her nose. She didn't know what to make of him, but she felt like he had been judging her, the way his eyes darted between her and Santana. He had also recognized her.

Brittany rubbed her face as she got into the cab. She shook of the senator's scrutiny and let herself smile, thinking about Santana. There were still a lot of things to worry about, but Brittany couldn't care at the moment. She touched her lips, feeling Santana's on them again as the cab made its way to her apartment.

**/**

Her bottle of painkillers left untouched, Brittany fell asleep easily that night - for the first time since the night of her match with Gonzaga - with a small smile on her lips.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To be knocked out doesn't mean what it seems. A boxer does not have to get up." - Joyce Carol Oates

The next morning Brittany went to the gym. She was still on a high from making up with Santana last night, and she wanted to go see Wes while she was still in a good mood. She wasn't even sure what Wes had heard, or what he knew, but she figured he had been informed somewhat. She also wanted to speak to Donally in person.

She walked as fast as her fractured ribs would allow and was mildly surprised to find herself wishing she was heading over to practice, not just to talk.

The familiar, yet somewhat gross, humidity of the small gym enveloped her as she pushed through the front door. There were a few people already working out towards the back. She spotted Wes and made her way towards him. The guy he was training saw Brittany approach first and let up slightly, his eyes flickering from Wes to Brittany with a subtle nod of his head. Wes turned and saw Brittany, his brow creasing slightly.

"Give us a sec," he said to the guy he was with gruffly as Brittany got closer. The guy nodded and headed towards a pair of guys sparring in the small ring towards the front of the gym.

"Hey," Brittany kicked at the ground with her shoes, her eyes looking anywhere but Wes. Her trainer remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Finally Brittany looked up, meeting her trainer, and good friend's, eyes. She knew he knew she was involved and the betrayal was clear on his face.

"I - I really don't know what to say. Besides that I'm sorry. Terribly, terribly, sorry." Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard before continuing, trying to ignore the hardness behind Wes' eyes and the way his muscled arms crossed over his chest. "I got in over my head in something I shouldn't have even touched in the first place. I know I shouldn't make excuses, but I was only thinking about my family. Betto brought them into it, I don't know how he even knew about them, but..." Brittany trailed off and shrugged.

Wes sighed and uncrossed his arms. "You fucked up big time," he said.

"I know that," Brittany said weakly. That was the only thing she was sure of at this point.

"I want to ask about it and yet I don't," Wes said, maybe more to himself than to Brittany.

"Well, I'm a desperately open book now, so anything you want to know, I'll tell you."

He eyed her, still debating if he wanted to talk about it. "Maybe another time. Or maybe not. Anyway, what's going on now? With his whole arrest and everything. What's your part?"

Brittany sighed, shifting her weight where she stood. "I'm cooperating with the cops to help them nail Betto. I might have to testify if it goes to trial. But really I don't know what's going on anymore."

"And when you coming back to the gym?"

Brittany was caught off guard by the question. Donally had picked up on the fact that she'd gotten the shit beat out of her by Betto, but it must not have pinged on Wes' radar. Why should it have? Brittany didn't know the extent of his knowledge on the situation - Donally was definitely aware of what was going on, but he may not have shared it all with Wes. She realized that what she was about to say would have come out eventually, but she still felt unprepared.

"About that...I think I'm done with boxing."

Wes' eyebrows shot upwards.

"After all this, I just, I need something different." Brittany licked her lips, chancing a glance around the gym before looking back to Wes. Suddenly he snorted with laughter.

"And you've told Donally this?" He quirked an eyebrow.

She felt childlishly defensive at his skepticism. "No, not yet, but I'm going to before I leave."

"I'll be interested to see how he takes it." Wes scratched the back of his neck. "So, what's next for you then?"

"I'm not sure. I think I'm going to move - get a full change of scenery."

Wes frowned but didn't say anything. Brittany felt bad. It was a lot to drop on him in one shot, and she would definitely miss seeing Wes regularly.

"What about your lady friend?" Now he wore a small smirk, recovering from the last statement quickly. Brittany couldn't help but grin, even though she was worried about that situation as well.

"I'm not sure about that either. I like her a lot, but, I don't know what's gonna happen there."

Wes smiled gently. "I'm sure you'll figure something out. You're pretty smart. Sometimes. Even after all those blows to the head."

Brittany smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Well, don't be a stranger, okay? And good luck telling Jack Donally you're done," Wes grinned, eyeing the office door.

"Yeah...if I'm not out of there in 15 minutes, make sure I'm still alive, 'kay?"

"Will do." She started to turn to walk to Donally's office but hesitated. "I'm sorry again, Wes."

Wes only nodded, accepting Brittany's apology, at least on the surface level. She pursed her lips and made her way to the office door. She knocked lightly and was greeted with a grunt that meant 'come in'.

Donally looked up with intrigued surprise as Brittany closed the door behind her. She sat down in a chair facing Donally's desk, finding herself more nervous than she thought.

"Before you say anything, I'm just here to tell you that once this Betto stuff wraps up, I'm done with boxing." Brittany blurted the statement out. Donally took his time before responding. He leaned back in his chair, toying with the pen between his fingers.

"Okay," he finally sighed.

"Okay?"

"Okay," he repeated, smiling faintly at the surprise on Brittany's face.

Brittany was surprised now, almost offended. No one just up and quit Donally's company. You either fucked up so bad he got rid of you himself, or...or...Brittany didn't even know what. It just didn't happen. It's why she had been so nervous in the first place.

"That's it?" She asked, almost incredulously.

He laughed. "Are you getting upset with me for letting you go?"

Brittany was quick to shake her head. "N-No, I'm just confused."

"Well, don't be. I can't blame you for wanting out, really. Even for this business, you've been through a lot, and I understand you want to be done with it. I know this wasn't your first choice on how to put bread on the table, so..."

Memories of that day in the park years ago flooded Brittany's mind. Donally coming over, giving her his card. The days of debating on whether or not to agree to work with him. For him. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude for the man. He was right, she hadn't wanted this, but he had still provided her and her family with a steady means for food and basic necessities. She went through hell in return, but he had always been kinder to her than he was to most.

Brittany stood. "Thanks Jack." She extended her hand across the desk towards him.

Donally stood to meet her, a small smile on his lips. He shook her hand firmly. "Now get out of here before I change my mind," he jerked his head towards the door. Brittany was quick to take up his suggestion, and turned to leave the office. She left the gym, not risking a look back towards Wes.

She felt lighter as she left the gym, the brisk air hitting her like a refreshing wave after the stickiness of the gym.

* * *

Back in her apartment Brittany kicked off her shoes and laid back on her couch. Not long after she had settled down, her duck phone quacked, and she reached over to pull the phone towards her. She picked up, still relaxing on the couch.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm looking for Brittany Pierce?" A woman's voice came over the line. It sounded familiar.

"You got her," Brittany responded.

"Oh, hi Brittany, it's Julia Riter."

"Oh! Hi Julia. What's up?" Brittany was suddenly nervous.

"Just calling to give you some news. It looks like Ricky Betto's case is being settled out of court, so you won't have to testify in court, they're just using your written testimony from that night at the police station."

Brittany's jaw dropped before she let out a loud laugh. Relief flooded her. No court. With a grin she pictured the cops and how pissed they must be Betto wasn't going to see a judge. Suddenly another thought crossed her mind and she became serious again.

"But, well wait - he's still going to get jail time, right?" What if he only got probation or something. Fear crept through her chest and she hated it.

"He's definitely getting jail time, I'm not sure how long, but he's definitely going to have a nice little vacation," Julia reassured.

Brittany nodded. "Okay, well, that's good."

"Yep, I just wanted to let you know you're in the clear."

"Thank you so much, Julia."

"Of course. Just doing my job."

"Well, thanks for doing it well." Brittany smiled and they hung up.

She fought the overwhelming sense of happiness that wanted so badly to take her over. She wanted it but was scared to let herself feel too good. She didn't trust herself or the world around her to not take it away from her. Instead she picked the phone back up and called Santana's number. She couldn't help but feel a little giddy when she answered.

"Hey you,"

"Hey Santana,"

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to come hang out?"

Santana chuckled a little. "Hang out?"

Brittany smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I dunno, just hang out for a little. Unless you're busy right now," Brittany felt silly, but they had never really just casually hung out, and she wanted to spend as much time with Santana as she possibly could. The idea of moving tugged at the corner of her mind, but she shook the thought.

"You're in luck, I just got home and don't have any plans at the moment."

"It's my lucky day," Brittany grinned wide, letting herself believe it for a second.

"I'll come over in a few. You can buzz me up from your apartment, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Okay, see you soon,"

Brittany thought she could hear Santana smiling through the phone. "See you,"

They hung up and Brittany got up to clean the few dishes sitting in her sink. About 15 minutes later she heard the chime of her box number being called. She hit the button on the intercom that opened the front door and waited for the knock at her apartment door.

Brittany opened the door for Santana and pulled her in quickly, closing the door behind her and pinning Santana against it. She ducked down quickly and kissed her, unable to stop smiling as she felt Santana's lips turn upwards into the kiss. When she pulled back Santana raised an eyebrow at her.

"Someone's in a good mood," she commented. Brittany grinned.

"I've just had a good morning," shrugged as she sat down on the couch. She motioned for Santana to join her. Santana shrugged off her coat before sitting next to Brittany. She curled up against Brittany, trying to remember which side her ribs were fractured on. Brittany noticed her hesitation.

"You're good," she murmured reassuringly, the small action only fueling her giddiness as Santana smiled and settled against her fully. "What'd you do this morning?" She asked Santana as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Santana didn't answer immediately. Instead she rested her head against Brittany's chest, looking down into her lap.

"I broke it off with Ricky. For good," she said quietly, still looking down.

Brittany licked her lips, unsure of what to say. She was happy, but also didn't want to seem insensitive. She placed a soft kiss into Santana's hair while her mind raced.

"It was hard, well, harder than I thought it'd be, and he wasn't happy, obviously, but, I needed to do it," Santana continued, tucking herself even closer into Brittany.

When Brittany still didn't say anything, Santana pulled back a little and looked up at her. She cupped Brittany's cheek with the hand that wasnt caught between her and the couch.

"Hey," Santana said softly, coaxing Brittany to meet her eyes. "You can be happy about it, you know. If you're happy, that is," Santana smiled slightly.

"I'm happy if you're happy," Brittany met Santana's gaze. Santana's eyes held Brittany's clear blue ones for a moment before she tilted her head up, pressing their lips together softly. They kissed slowly for a little, and Santana moved over slowly so she was straddling Brittany's lap without breaking the kiss.

She opened her mouth as Brittany's tongue sought permission to explore, flitting hungrily across Santana's lips. Brittany's body heated quickly, desire flooding her as Santana's hands cupped her neck, fingers splayed across soft skin as they kissed. Brittany's hands rested on Santana's hips.

She knew she should stop. Well, she didn't know that, but she figured she should. For some reason she didn't want things to get too intimate again until she told Santana that she was moving. Or that she wanted to move. It felt important, and she finally got herself to pull back from Santana.

Brittany rested her head against the couch, looking up at Santana who was breathing hard, a puzzled look on her face. Brittany rolled her lips inwards as she thought. Santana tucked her hair behind her ears, still confused as to why Brittany had stopped kissing her.

"This is going to be a total killjoy, but I want to be honest with you, cause, you know, I'm trying that whole 100% honestly thing," Brittany grinned sheepishly. Santana smiled a little, worry still etched on her features.

"I'm thinking of moving. Like, far away kind of moving, not a block away moving."

Santana's body slumped slightly, her hands still resting on Brittany's neck.

"I just need to get away from all this, you know? Start fresh. Erase all the crap I've been through, or put myself through, and start a clean slate." Brittany thumbed the material of Santana's shirt, looking down as she licked her lips. "But," she looked up again. "There's one thing I don't want to erase," she brought one of her hands up to Santana's cheek. Santana's breath hitched as Brittany ran a thumb over her cheekbone.

"But I also know I can't ask you to move or anything, that's crazy, and I just don't know what to do..."

"Britt...I..." Santana bit her bottom lip.

"I know, wow this was stupid of me, I'm sorry, I just - shouldn't have brought it up," Brittany shook her head at herself.

"No, no, it wasn't stupid," Santana smiled, dipping her head a little so Brittany looked at her again. "When were you thinking of moving?"

"Um, I dunno...I haven't even looked at anything yet," Brittany admitted.

Santana chuckled. "Okay, well why don't you keep me posted on that?" Santana teased gently as she leaned down to kiss Brittany again.

"Okay," Brittany agreed against Santana's lips.

She felt better again. She still felt foolish for telling Santana, but Santana had made her feel okay about it. There were no commitments made or broken, nothing laid in concrete. Brittany was nervous at the uncertainty of everything, but she let herself forget about her worries as Santana adjusted herself in her lap.

Brittany smiled against her lips and turned them so that Santana fell back onto the couch. She let out a small gasp but smiled as Brittany settled over her, leaning down to kiss her again. Brittany ignored the pain that shot through her ribs. She considered the fact that sex was considered a physical activity, but Santana's lips convinced her otherwise.

"You said I could be happy, right?" Brittany asked between kisses. The question felt heavy, but she hoped Santana knew she was referring back to their conversation from minutes ago.

"Mhm," Santana hummed.

"Are you happy?" Brittany asked, hovering over Santana. Her hair fell down around her face and Santana's, making their close proximity feel even closer. They were in their own little world, sheltered by a curved shield of blonde.

"I'm happy," Santana whispered, her voice throaty as her eyes scanned Brittany's.

Brittany smiled, her pulse quickening as she leaned back down.

"Me too."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A rooster crows only when it sees the light. Put him in the dark and he'll never crow. I have seen the light and I'm crowing." - Muhammad Ali

Brittany spent the next few days relaxing. She let herself enjoy lazy days consisting of late mornings spent in bed (a couple of which she was joined by Santana). She took long walks around the city and tested her back and ribs tentatively by stretching and doing sit ups on her apartment floor.

Overall she had felt secure in her situation - Ricky was far from on her mind, beginning his prison sentence, her body was healing, she and Santana were...something. It wasn't until this morning that she had felt a jolt of dread shoot through her. Brittany was on her way to the library to use the computer when she stopped short. She was just outside her apartment building, about to turn down the sidewalk in the direction of the library when something across the street made her do a double take. She didn't know why she had looked in the first place - it wasn't clearly in her line of vision.

There was a black car parked a car or two up from in front of her apartment on the opposite side of the street. The car was as plain as could be, but it seemed familiar. Had it been there yesterday too? On the second look Brittany nearly stumbled backwards. There was a man sitting in the driver's seat, staring directly at her. He was one of Ricky's guys - Brittany recognized him instantly and a fear she hadn't known still existed rose in her throat like bile.

The fear was quickly followed by anger. The driver held eye contact for a minute longer before turning on the engine and pulling out into the street. As the car moved towards her, Brittany stepped off the sidwalk and into the street. A million threats fought to be freed from the tip of her tongue, but Brittany stayed silent as the car crawled past her. The man threw her one last glance before turning to focus on the road.

Brittany stood firmly by the side of the street, her body tense as she stared at the driver while he passed by. She wanted to shout at him, to bang on the glass window, to ask what the fuck he thought he was playing at.

She was rattled for the rest of the walk to the library, her mind racing. Was Ricky having her watched? What for? He was in jail, if anything he was safe from anybody who was on his case about the money. Was it just to mess with her? Brittany's stomach turned violently as she pushed the heavy door of the library open.

Did he know about her and Santana?

Brittany sat down at an open computer and began searching for apartments. Her task felt more important now, and all the more difficult. Maybe if she left town with her mom and sister, Santana'd be fine. If that guy was tailing her because Ricky somehow knew about her and Santana...he was obviously pissed. And she wouldn't put it past him to bring violence back into the picture. She didn't think he had ever hit Santana, but she realized he was totally capable of it.

Brittany shook her head, her thoughts getting away from her and escalating quickly. The speculation would do her no good. She returned her focus to looking at apartment listings online and writing down contact information.

**/**

"I'm going to look at apartments for us this weekend, 'kay?"

"What about Santana?"

"Kait - "

Brittany's mother raised an eyebrow. Brittany sighed.

"What about her?"

"Well are you just leaving her?"

"I - I don't know," Brittany said, exasperated. She loved her sister but she was about to cuff her across the head for all the questions.

"Am I ever going to meet this mystery woman?" Her mother chimed in.

Brittany licked her lips, wondering when this became a game of 20 questions. She had come over to hang out and tell them she was apartment hunting for them, not to discuss her long term plans with the woman whom, when she looked at it, she was quickly falling for. If she hadn't already fallen a long time ago.

"Maybe," Brittany smirked as she side-eyed Kait who wore a huge grin. "If you goons behave yourselves," she added.

* * *

They were cuddled on Santana's couch watching TV Thursday night. Santana was tucked in as tightly as she could be against Brittany, who had one hand wrapped around her shoulders and another holding Santana's in her lap.

"I'm not gonna be around this weekend," Brittany said tentatively, during a commercial.

"Where you going?" Santana sat back slightly, looking up at Brittany.

"Apartment hunting. In Springdale."

Santana wrinkled her nose. Brittany didn't know what to say, so she looked back at the TV.

"Can I come?"

Brittany was sure she heard something in her neck crack she turned back to Santana so fast. Her eyebrows stretched to meet her hairline.

"Just, I don't know, it'll be a fun little getaway. Right? Unless you don't want me to," Santana continued, her hand coming up to rest on Brittany's chest, smoothing over her shirt slightly and making her heart beat double time.

"No, I'd love that, you just surprised me with the suggestion," Brittany smiled. "But I already booked my train ticket. My 5 hour train ticket." She made a face at the length of the trip.

"Well I can probably still get a ticket for the train, " Santana said. "It's not assigned seating, is it? That would be weird if we had to sit in different cars or something." Santana wrinkled her nose again and Brittany leaned down to kiss it, the smile in her voice audible as she spoke.

"No, I don't believe it's assigned seating."

"Good."

* * *

Brittany had been excited to take a little trip by herself, but she hadn't considered the possibility of Santana joining her. Friday afternoon, after Santana had booked an expensive, last minute ticket that morning, they waited on the platform in the station for their train. Each woman had a small suitcase with them.

Brittany felt nervous standing on the platform and even once they got on the train, but Santana either didn't notice or pretended not to notice. Brittany sat in the window seat and Santana in the aisle seat with her whole body turned inwards. They're knees touched and Santana threaded her hand through Brittany's between them, smiling when Brittany's eyes flickered from their hands to Santana's face.

When they finally arrived at the small hotel room Brittany had paid for, they left their suitcases by the door and fell to the bed, both feeling suddenly drained from the long train ride. Santana scooted over to Brittany, draping her arm over her stomach as she tucked her face in towards her neck.

"I'm so tired...but it's still so early and I wanna have fun with you tonight," Brittany smiled as Santana cuddled up to her. Santana giggled.

"N-no, not like that!" Brittany corrected when she realized how it sounded. "Well, also like that...but I wanted to take you out for dinner and dancing."

"So why don't we take a little nap and then go?" Santana mumbled, already drifting off.

"Sounds good to me," Brittany yawned.

**/**

Brittany woke up a couple of hours later, the room dark. She got her bearings before she kissed Santana's forehead and nudged her gently. "Santana, I'm gonna shower and get dressed. Napping always leaves me feeling gross,"

"Mmph, wait, me too," Santana groaned. "I'll join you,"

Brittany could hear the sleepy smile in her voice.

Santana shuffled into the bathroom after her where they both stripped quietly before Brittany stepped into the shower to test the water. The shower door was glass and after a minute Brittany motioned for Santana to join her. Brittany pulled Santana towards her so they were pressed together, the hot water rushing over them. Santana tilted her head up and wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck, capturing her lips for a lazy, wet kiss.

Brittany hummed happily before pulling back. She smiled at Santana and licked her lips. "Pass me the shampoo?"

**/**

"This place looks fun!" Brittany gave Santana's hand a squeeze as they walked through the unfamilar streets. They had called a cab and asked the cabbie for food recommendations, finally settling on a cute Chinese place he recommended. After, they had decided to explore downtown Springdale in search of a good place to go dancing. Brittany was both excited and nervous, she loved dancing, but she had never actually danced with Santana. She had also worried about holding hands as they walked down the street, but Santana insisted. "No one knows us here," she had reminded Brittany gently. Brittany wanted to argue that someone might recognize her from boxing but she enjoyed the insistent way Santana curled her fingers around her own, so she simply nodded.

Now they stood in front of a club with a beat practically pulsing out onto the sidewalk.

"Sounds intense," Santana commented, slight worry etched on her face.

"C'monnnn, it'll be awesome. We can get stupid drunk and dance till our feet hurt!" Brittany grinned toothily and Santana laughed.

"Are you sure you should be dancing? How are your ribs?"

"They've actually been feeling really good. And I need to moveee," Brittany wiggled her hips, making Santana laugh again.

"Alright then. You better bring those dance moves," Santana grinned as they moved towards the bouncer sitting in the doorway.

"That sounded like a challenge, and I accept."

Once inside, they made their way to the bar, the music obnoxiously loud for their still sober bodies. Brittany ordered them each two shots at which Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Trying to get me drunk?"

"Maybe," Brittany shouted over the music as she handed Santana her first shot. They clinked glasses and downed the alcohol, faces scrunched as it burned their throats. Brittany handed over the second one and they chased down the first.

"Alright, let's see whatcha got, Lopez!" Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and moved to the dance floor.

They fell easily into the beat, Brittany's hands on Santana's hips as Santana pressed her back against Brittany's chest. The liquor and anonymity of the new place gave them both extra confidence and neither held back. Brittany didn't think there was anything in the world more arousing than the way Santana's face flushed with exertion, the way her shirt rode up her stomach slightly; the way her pouty lips parted as her breathing came out in pants.

They danced without a break for a while, Santana finally signalling that she needed to sit. The headed towards the back where they found an empty loveseat. There were a few people in other chairs drinking and talking nearby. Brittany sat down and motioned for Santana to sit next to her, which she did, draping her legs over Brittany's lap. They were both breathing heavily but smiling.

"You're a really great dancer," Santana leaned over so she was closer to Brittany's ear.

"Thanks! You're not so bad yourself," Brittany smiled.

Santana leaned forward and kissed her. Brittany pulled her legs further over her lap so they were closer. She opened her mouth slightly against Santana's lips, her stomach flipping pleasurably when Santana's tongue darted forward. They kissed hungrily for a little while before Brittany finally pulled back just enough to catch her breath.

"Let's go back to the hotel," she pressed another kiss to Santana's lips.

Santana nodded.

They hurried through the bar towards the front door and Brittany hailed a cab. The tension between them was palpable in the backseat of the cab, hands teasing up legs as eyes stayed focused forwards, and Brittany nearly threw a 20 at the cabbie before closing the door. She had Santana pinned against the inside of the hotel room door in less then five minutes.

Santana moaned softly as Brittany sucked on her neck and wedged a leg between her thighs. "Britt...Brittany,"

Brittany smiled into Santana's skin.

"Bed, I - I want to go to bed with you," Santana's voice was husky and it sent shivers down Brittany's back. It was sexual but also...sincere, and romantic. Brittany picked Santana up, guiding her legs around her hips before turning to carry her to bed. When she put her down, Santana crawled under the covers, suddenly shy as she pulled off her shirt and pants. Brittany did the same and then slipped into bed after her.

It was different, this time. They were both coming down from their buzzes, but something else coursed through their veins. There was something in the way Santana clutched desperately at Brittany's back, nails biting into flesh as Brittany's hand worked between her legs, lips crashing messily. Brittany's head spun as Santana nearly chanted her name, head thrown back as she neared her release. She needed to see her come undone.

"Look at me," she whispered, slowing her hand between Santana's legs just enough to get Santana's attention. "Please," Brittany begged, and Santana opened her eyes to look up at the woman over her. She licked her lips as Brittany continued, two fingers pumping frantically with her thumb pressing at Santana's clit.

Santana's eyes were the darkest Brittany had ever seen them, pupils wide in the dim light filtering in from the bathroom. Brittany kissed her quickly before pulling back again, determined to keep their gaze locked. Santana let out a moan and her eyes fluttered closed as she felt herself reaching the edge, but she kept them trained on Brittany. A paralyzing wave of pleasure tore through her, her body arching slightly as Brittany continued to work her over, sending wave after crashing wave through her nerves.

Santana pulled Brittany down to kiss her hard, lips and teeth bumping messily together as Santana's body shuddered. "Oh, fuck," she whimpered against Brittany's lips. Eventually, Brittany withdrew her hand and fell to Santana's side, her own body on fire but spent at the same time. Santana turned to face her, cupping her cheek to press a lazy kiss to her lips.

"That was incredible," she breathed. "You're incredible,"

Brittany smiled and kissed Santana back. The words in her throat were ones she couldn't say, so she only nodded, nuzzling Santana's cheek with her nose.

"Gimme a sec and I'll return the favor," Santana grinned, slinking down slightly to kiss Brittany's neck. Brittany only bit her bottom lip in worry at the words she had almost blurted.

* * *

She had to wake up early the next morning to meet with people showing her a couple of apartments. Brittany left Santana sleeping in bed, hair tousled across the pillow as her naked chest rose and fell steadily. After her two morning appointments, she had a break before she was going to see different places in the afternoon, so she figured she'd come back to the hotel and check if Santana was up and wanted to come to those.

The apartments were nice, but Brittany's focus was on the night before. She had wanted so badly to say it, but fear bound the words to her throat; swallowed them up so they stayed there.

She got back to the hotel room to find Santana up, still naked and in bed but watching TV.

"Hey there," Santana smiled as Brittany came to sit on the bed. "How were the apartments?"

"They were really nice, and pretty cheap. I think my mom would like the one I have in mind for her, but I still have to see the others this afternoon."

"Can I tag along?"

"I was just about to ask," Brittany smiled before eyeing Santana up and down. "You might want to put some clothes on though," she smirked.

Santana pouted. "Do I have to?"

"Well, I don't mind, but the realtor might."

"Hey, maybe I can get you cheaper rent," Santana raised her eyebrows.

**/**

There was a giddiness in Brittany's chest as they held hands, walking around the apartment together. The realtor smiled at them in a knowing way, assuming the apartment was for them but never saying it outright. Brittany didn't mind; she let herself slip into the fantasy. She pictured them getting a place together and her heart skipped a beat, cheeks flushing as warmth spread through her.

Santana was sharp with her questions, asking details about the lease and maintenance and how much the average electricity bill cost. Brittany watched on with an amused smile as the woman covered all the bases, their hands laced together between them.

**/**

As the weekend came to a close, Brittany began to worry again. She worried about going back home, about the man who had been outside of her apartment a few days ago, about how incredible this little trip had been and if things would be different when they got back. She had fallen quiet on their way back to to the train station and was thankful when Santana broke the silence as they waited to print their tickets.

"I had a lot of fun this weekend," she smiled at Brittany, which never failed to make Brittany feel weak in the knees.

"Me too. I'm glad you asked to come along. I know it's kind of weird circumstances but..." Brittany trailed off with a shrug.

Santana shrugged back. "It was fun. I had fun with you. I like you a lot, you know,"

"Yeah?" Brittany asked as they pulled their tickets from the automated machines.

"Yeah," Santana replied, stepping over to give Brittany a quick peck on the cheek before they headed to the platform.

Brittany let herself ignore the worries of what waited for her at home as they walked, allowing Santana's hand in hers to be the only thing she felt.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Rhythm is everything in boxing. Every move you make starts with your heart, and that's in rhythm or you're in trouble." -Sugar Ray Robinson

"I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?" Brittany smiled and came up behind Santana as she stood in front of the mirror in Brittany's room.

"Cause I'm meeting your mom and sister! Kind of a big deal," Santana smiled at Brittany in the reflection. Brittany could tell Santana was struggling to keep her eyes level, avoiding the packed boxes that crowded the room.

"Is it?" Brittany asked, trying to quell her own nerves.

"Well I've never met them before, and I want to make a good first impression, and meeting relatives of the most awesome woman alive is just bound to make anyone nervous."

Brittany blushed. "I'm not the most awesome," she grinned as she looked down at the floor.

Santana turned around. "Yes you are." She cupped Brittany's cheeks, forcing her to meet warm brown eyes. "You're the strongest, prettiest, most awesome woman I've ever met, and I love that you want me to meet your family."

Brittany's heart jumped into her throat and she swallowed thickly. She leaned forward slightly, watching the way Santana watched her. The words were there, caught in her throat along with her heart. She licked her lips and pressed forward to kiss Santana.

* * *

As they walked towards Brittany's mother's apartment, Brittany slipped her hand into Santana's and watched the streets carefully. She smiled as Santana leaeds into her a little as they walked, but she was too on edge to really enjoy the act. Her mind went back to earlier that day, when she visited Ricky. He was in a low-security facility, so she had been allowed to speak to him in a small room with a guard standing outside.

**/**

_Ricky sat silently in his chair as Brittany took her seat across from him. She was already angry; trying to calm herself down to be able to speak to him. He looked bored, barely even glancing over at her. He stared at a spot on the table, a crack in the wall, and even closed his eyes._

_Brittany slammed a hand down on the table. Ricky opened his eyes but didn't flinch. "What the fuck do you want from me?" Brittany growled._

_Betto only licked his lips, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What?" He asked carelessly._

_"You know what. One of your fucking goons sitting outside my apartment building, tailing me like I'm some - some criminal or something!"_

_This time a grin nearly split his face and he leaned forward a little. "You are a criminal, Brittany."_

_"No I'm not," she spat back. The jab stung, but she wouldn't let herself play his game. She didn't know if she should mention Santana. He might have no idea, and she didn't want to give him another reason to hate her if he didn't already have it._

_"You know I could have you bleeding and unconscious before that guard can even pull the key of their keyring, right?" She glared at him, meaning every single word._

_He kept smiling. "Assault me and you might end up sharing your meals with me," Ricky cocked his head._

_In the blink of an eye Brittany was standing, her fists curled, knuckles white against the table as she leaned across it towards him. This time he flinched, and she couldn't help the wicked grin that crossed her features. "Nervous? Yeah, you're not so tough without your muscleheads around to back you up, huh?"_

_Betto scowled, but met Brittany's sharp blue eyes when he spoke. "How do you like my sloppy seconds?"_

_Brittany pushed back from the table so she wouldn't hit him. He knew, unsurprisingly, and just as unsurprisingly, he was a dick about it. Things were going her way, if she could play this right._

_"Like you care," she sneered. "You didn't love her anyway, you were just with her to get close to her father, and you fucked that up when you got in over your head with the gambling."_

_"I did love her," he said simply. Brittany was surprised by his frankness and the lack of bite in his voice. She let herself believe him for a second, but steeled herself. His admission would only help her._

_"Well then you'll be happy to hear I'm moving away." She turned slightly to look at him and caught his eyebrows raised. "I'm moving and she's not coming with me, so maybe if you get your act together she'll have you back." The idea nauseated her, but Brittany reminded herself it was just a lie. She took Ricky's lack of a sneer and snide comment as a good sign._

_"Yeah, I'm moving, and I want you to call off your dogs. There's no fucking point in following me, and if you do, I'll call the police. I'm sure your boys have nice, clear records, right?" She rolled her eyes._

_"Rat," Betto muttered under his breath._

_"Give it a rest, Betto. At least I have a spine. I'm getting out of town, alright? So just leave me alone already, you're not helping yourself." She almost pitied him for a second. The second passed, and Brittany pushed her chair in and walked to the door to be let out._

**/**

Brittany hoped Betto would back off of her now that she was leaving, even if he was chasing false hopes of winning Santana back.

She hadn't told Santana about her visit, but she figured she could tell her later. She didn't want to ruin what was promising to be a nice night.

* * *

Dinner was going really well, Brittany thought as she sat back in her chair. She draped her arm over the back of Santana's chair, and smiled as Santana gave her thigh a little squeeze, without looking up from the conversation she was having with Kait.

Brittany's mom shot her a little smile and a thumbs up, making her blush. Brittany wasn't surprised that Santana had easily charmed her mom and sister, but it was still a nice feeling; a wave of pleasant relief had replaced her anxiety about introducing them. Kait especially had taken to Santana, asking her about the dress she was wearing and about her singing and who her favorite artists are.

As they sat around, picking at their dessert, Brittany looked around her mother's apartment which was also littered with packed boxes. They were splitting a moving van the next morning since they'd be in the same apartment building anyway.

After dinner Brittany and Santana went to Santana's apartment. They were quiet, each woman lost in her own thoughts. Brittany tried not to let herself question moving, which suddenly felt like the worst idea ever. Santana flopped down on the couch and Brittany stood by the kitchen counter, gnawing her bottom lip with worry.  _You have to move now, it's the only way to get Ricky to ease up_ , she reminded herself.

Brittany shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and picked up the small plastic bag she had asked Santana to carry in her oversized purse. She walked into the living room and smirked at Santana sprawled across the couch.

"So, what'd you think?"

Santana looked up at her. "I love them! They're great. Kait is super cute."

Brittany smiled and sat down on the couch, picking up Santana's legs and putting them back down across her lap. A worried look suddenly creased Santana's forehead.

"What do you think they thought of me?"

"Is that a serious question? I think Kait could have kept you there all night talking your ear off!" Santana smiled. "And my mom really likes you too."

"Phew! Passed that test," Santana chuckled. She noticed the bag next to Brittany. "Oh yeah, so what's in the bag? I behaved and didn't peek."

"Good, it totally would have ruined the surprise if you'd looked. It's a present for you." Brittany pulled a box from the bag. "Ta-da!" She held the box out to Santana, who took it, confused as she looked it over.

"Britt, I already have a cell ph - ohhh," her lips curled up in a knowing smile.

Brittany looked down, suddenly shy. "I figured you know, it was time to get one. My duck phone's great and all, but I kind of want to be able to talk to you whenever and wherever."

Santana smiled warmly and leaned forward to cup Brittany's cheek and pull her closer to kiss her. "This is a great present. Thank you," she murmured as she pulled back.

"And I also want to try that sexting thing. That's what it's called, right?" Brittany grinned cheekily and Santana threw her head back with a laugh.

"Yes, that's what it's called. Maybe we should start with regular texting first, horndog." Santana kissed Brittany's flushed cheek. They both lapsed into silence then, the reason for Brittany getting a cell phone hanging over their heads.

Brittany stretched. "I'm sleepy," she yawned. Santana laced their fingers together.

"Then let's go to bed."

* * *

Brittany was sleepy, but sleep eluded her as they laid in bed. Santana was cuddled against her, her warm breath falling on Brittany's neck. Brittany could tell Santana was still awake too. She turned and kissed Santana's forehead.

"You awake?" she whispered into her skin.

"Mhmf," Santana grunted. Brittany pushed a strand of dark hair from her face, smiling tiredly when Santana's eyes fluttered open. The moon was bright and cast a faint light through the room, even with the shades drawn. Santana's eyes looked dark but kind as she licked her lips. "I thought you were sleepy," she mumbled.

"I can't sleep. Thinking about tomorrow." Brittany admitted. Santana sighed.

"I know babe, it sucks."

Brittany couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Santana stroked her cheek with the backs of her fingers. "What?" She asked.

"You called me babe. I don't think you've called me babe before," Brittany said shyly, embarrassed at how giddy it made her feel. Santana chuckled.

"Babe," she teased playfully. Brittany pressed forward and kissed Santana, the kiss deepening easily as Santana's hands fell to Brittany's neck, holding her and pulling her in closer. Brittany rolled so that she was on top of Santana, the blankets tangled but falling forgotten as they kissed each other. Santana whimpered underneath Brittany, bringing her hand down to guide Brittany's to her chest. She thumbed across a stiffening nipple over Santana's shirt before she broke away from the kiss, breathing deeply.

"I love you," Brittany panted. "I - I'm sorry, I just, I love you."

Santana stared at her, her face unreadable. Finally she spoke.

"Why are you sorry?" She whispered, so quiet Brittany wasn't sure she'd even said it.

"Because I'm moving, because our relationship didn't start in the most normal of situations, because I'm leaving you and it's just -"

"Whoa, whoa, hey," Santana soothed. "Brittany...I don't care how our relationship started, and I know this isn't the end of it." Brittany's breath hitched in her chest. Santana leaned up and kissed her gently. "And I love you too," she looked Brittany straight in the eye as she said it, and Brittany feared her body had decided to give up breathing altogether. She didn't dare move, afraid to shatter the dreamworld she must have been in.

She thought about all the shit she'd been through, her entire life, and how she'd never felt as happy as she did right in this moment. The kindest, most beautiful woman she'd ever met loved her. Brittany didn't think she'd ever been in love before. She'd never felt this way before - she couldn't even describe it.

"You do?" She managed.

Santana laughed. "Yes, actually, I do." She pecked Brittany on the lips. "I. Love. You." she punctuated each word with a quick kiss. "And you're not leaving me, at least I hope not," she raised an eyebrow.

Brittany shook her head with a small smile. "Definitely not leaving you, just moving."

"We'll visit each other," Santana murmured, pulling Brittany towards her again. "And we can do that sexting thing," she grinned slyly. "But for now, we should do that actual sex thing,"

Brittany let out a chuckle before her lips closed over Santana's. "Don't have to tell me twice," she breathed in between kisses.

* * *

The next morning, Brittany groaned loudly when Santana's alarm went off.

"So early," she moaned into the pillow.

"Sorry I kept us up half the night," Santana apologized as she rolled over, tucking herself against Brittany's warm body.

"I'm not," Brittany grinned.

Santana kissed her cheek but then pouted. "And not that I'm kicking you out, but you have to go soon." Brittany whined.

"I know, I know."

They fell quiet for a few minutes before Brittany finally rolled out of bed and stretched. She had to stop at the gym and say a last goodbye to Wes and maybe even Donally before going to pick up the small truck she had rented. Brittany got dressed in the clothes she had worn the other day and pulled her hair into a ponytail before walking around the bed to where Santana was now sitting up. She was pouting as she watched Brittany come towards her. Brittany smiled as she bent down slightly.

"I'll miss you," she said quietly, placing a quick peck on Santana's lips.

"I'll miss you too. Call me when you get there, if you can figure out how to turn on your phone."

Brittany rolled her eyes and kissed Santana again, this one lasting longer than the first. She pulled back slowly, savoring the sleepy look Santana wore.

"I love you."

Santana smiled.

"I love you too."

**/**

Brittany made her way to the gym, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she got farther and farther away from Santana. She got the the gym just after it opened, and Wes was the only one there, setting things up for the day.

"Hey," Brittany gave him a little wave as she made her way towards him.

"You're up bright and early," he responded, pulling her into a light hug.

"Yep. Moving out today," she nodded, looking around the gym, unable to look Wes in the eye.

"Wow," he nodded in agreement before bending down to hang a large punching bag on its post. Brittany felt a small sense of longing as she watched the bag sway in its place.

"Well, yeah, just wanted to come say goodbye. Is Jack here?"

Wes laughed. "At this hour in the morning?" He looked at Brittany and she rolled her eyes.

"Alright, well..." They stood looking at each other. They'd worked together for many years, but it'd always been relatively surface level. Well, they'd never expressed much care or concern for each other outside of the boxing arena, but Brittany was pretty sure their relationship was more than just basic trainer/trainee. They were both just too tough to admit it.

"Thanks for everything," Brittany sighed as she pulled Wes into a hug. She smiled when his strong arms wrapped around her back. He patted her on the back, and his hug felt unsure, but she knew he was still just being Mr. Tough Guy.

"Ah, you're welcome. Feel free to come back anytime." He stepped back, holding her by the shoulders as he looked her over. "Even if Donally won't have you back, though I think he would - he'd be stupid not to, I'll be happy to kick your ass back into shape."

Brittany laughed. "We'll see about that, old man."

Wes made to swipe at her but she dodged it.

"Alright, get outta here then," Wes waved her off. Brittany ducked her head.

"Take care, Wes"

* * *

The move went smoother than Brittany imagined it would. She guessed it was because they didn't have that much stuff, and she was able to move all her boxes to the truck and be over at her mother's apartment in a couple of hours. She had spent the whole time loading the truck with her head on a swivel, looking up and down the street for any suspicious looking cars. The last thing she wanted was for one of Ricky's guys to follow her out of town, defeating the whole purpose of her moving to begin with. Brittany was relieved when she didn't notice any cars that looked out of place.  _Maybe he finally got some sense,_  she mused to herself.

Her mom and sister had more boxes that she did, and she took a quick break from helping them to turn on her cell phone. The guy in the store had said just pop in the card and battery and she'd be good to go. She fumbled with the tiny card for a little, but eventually she got everything in place and hit the power button. Once the phone was one, she plugged in Santana's number (which she had memorized) and looked for the messaging button.

Brittany laughed at herself as she typed out her first text. She ignored Kait's whine for her to come help them and hit the send button.

- _guess who figured out how to turn on her cell phone?_

She pocketed the phone and went back to helping move boxes. When they had finished, she checked her phone and found a small envelope on the screen reading '1 new message'.

- _smarty pants :P_

Brittany smiled and closed the phone. She sighed as she slipped into driver's seat. Her mother was in the passenger's seat and Kait was sitting between them, excited for their mini roadtrip, and to be moving to a new city. Brittany tried not to let the feeling of regret sit too heavily on her shoulders, reminding herself that it was for the best. She started the engine.

**/**

They were still in town and at a red light when Brittany's phone buzzed in Kait's hands. Brittany reached for it but Kait held it away, giggling as she flipped open the phone.

"Ohhh, a new message from Santana," Kait teased. Brittany rolled her eyes, looking back at the light quickly to make sure it was still red.

"Kait, c'mon." Brittany groaned.

Their mother only rolled her eyes at them, looking out the window and ignoring her daughters' childishness.

"It says she misses you and loves you," Kait read, her own voice taking a tone of surprise as she read. Brittany managed to snatch the phone from her sister's hands.

"Well don't sound so surprised," she grumbled. The light turned green before Brittany could write a response, and Kait took the phone from her again.

"I'll do it," Kait said as she hit the reply button.

"No! Kait, stop," Brittany whined helplessly as she pulled the truck onto the highway.

"Seriously you girls need to stop before I jump out of the moving truck," their mother sighed.

Brittany muttered under her breath as her eyes flickered back and forth between Kait and the road. "At least tell her it's you,"

"Duh, dummy," Kait said. "We're becoming friends!"

Brittany only shook her head, hoping she wouldn't have to murder her sister when they arrived at their new place.

**/**

It was late that night when Brittany heard a knock on the door. She was sprawled on her new couch, her living room littered with half empty boxes. She'd tired of unpacking, especially after driving the whole way and helping her mom and sister unpack, and had flopped down on the couch for some relief.

"Kait, you should be sleeping already. And I told you, I don't have your sweatshirt!" Brittany pulled herself from the couch and padded over to the door. She opened her mouth to chastise Kait again but the words died on her tongue.

Santana was standing in front of her with a small bag over her shoulder. "You should be nicer to your sister, this was her idea after all." Santana smiled as she stepped past a stunned Brittany into her apartment.

Brittany closed the door and turned to follow Santana into her new bedroom. She had already put sheets and blankets on her bed, but the rest of the room was a mess. "What?"

"Me surprising you, which I must say, I think I did a very good job of, was Kait's idea. When we were texting today." Santana grinned and dropped her bag, pulling Brittany towards her by the hips. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to Brittany's cheek as the blonde worked the information over.

"But I checked all the texts afterwards, to make sure she wasn't being embarrassing," Brittany thought out loud.

"You can delete texts you know," Santana offered with another grin and a kiss. "And anyway, you've spent too much time talking about this when you should be kissing me," she raised an eyebrow.

Brittany smiled and shook her head. "I guess you're right," she chuckled, tilting her head and pulling Santana in for a deep kiss.

Eventually Santana pulled back, and it was Brittany's turn to pout.

"'Kay, I bet you're tired, and I'm pretty exhausted too. I'm only here for a few days, but I figured I could help you unpack and you know, other stuff."

Brittany smirked. "Other stuff?"

"Yeah," Santana grinned slyly. "Other stuff you may need help with."

"'Kay. Sounds good to me."

Santana changed into pajamas and Brittany pulled out the first t-shirt and pair of shorts she could find in her boxes of stuff. They brushed their teeth, taking turns spitting into the sink and grinning shyly at each other in the mirror. Brittany felt content as they slipped into bed, like this was exactly where she was meant to be. She wasn't thinking about the past or the future, just here and now, with Santana, cuddling closely under her covers.

"I'm really happy you came," Brittany murmured into Santana's neck, right behind her ear. She felt Santana smile.

"Me too," Santana whispered. "And I stole my dad's traveler's card, so you can use it to save money when you come visit me."

Brittany chuckled. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't think your dad likes me very much."

"Well I like you very much, and he'll have to deal with that."

Brittany was quiet, imagining how Santana's father would react if he ever found out about them. She shut her eyes tightly and shook the image, reminding herself to just focus on this moment, right here with Santana. She kissed the soft spot behind her ear again.

"You only like me very much?" She asked, feigning innocence. She smiled into Santana's neck at her own leading question, almost desperate to hear Santana say it again.

Santana turned in her arms and placed a warm kiss on Brittany's lips.

"I  _love_ you very much," she breathed.

"I love you more," Brittany responded sleepily.

Brittany had fought a lot in her life. She fell asleep tangled in Santana, knowing she'd take another million hits just to spend the rest of her life just like this.


	14. Epilogue

_**"Life is very interesting if you make mistakes." - Georges Carpentier**_

* * *

_-2 years later-_

Brittany rolled over to hit the snooze button when the alarm clock on her nightstand went off. She groaned a little as she stretched before rolling back over. Today was just another average day – she had to get up for work soon – and she loved it.

She snuggled back up against Santana who hadn't even budged at the alarm. Over Santana's shoulder, Brittany looked at the closet that now held two wardrobes. She craned her neck around to look at the additional dresser next to the original, and the pictures that were scattered over both of them.

Santana had moved in a year ago. After a year of traveling back and forth, and even then only seeing each other on weekends, they made plans to move in together. Well, plans for Santana to get out of town and come join Brittany. Brittany had worried the question over in her mind, just as she had with many points in her relationship with Santana; she just didn't want to mess up.

Finally she had asked, one weekend while they were lazing around in Brittany's bed, and Santana had giggled and said yes. Brittany asked what was so funny, and Santana kissed her chastely on the lips.

"Nothing, I was just wondering when you were going to ask," Santana smiled, speaking against Brittany's lips. Brittany pulled back, a small smile on her face.

"Then why didn't you say something?"

"Well, I wasn't going to invite myself to just move into your apartment!"

"Well, you could have and should have," Brittany said with the same playfully indignant tone. "Would have made my life easier," she had mumbled, burying her face in Santana's neck.

Santana had moved in shortly after that, and it only made them realize that much more how in love with each other they were. Now the snooze alarm went off, and Santana finally stirred.

"Mmph," she whined sleepily.

"Me too," Brittany groaned and turned the alarm off. Santana rolled over and placed gentle kisses up Brittany's neck. "We're supposed to be getting out of bed, remember? This isn't helping," she smiled despite herself as Santana nibbled at her skin.

"You're supposed to be getting out of bed. I don't have to be up till noon,"

"Lazy bum," Brittany teased, meeting Santana's lips for a morning-breath kiss neither of them ever seemed to mind.

Santana was being anything but lazy. She'd recently been signed to a small record label after nearly two years of sending out tons and tons of demos, and had been hard at work writing and recording. Brittany swelled with pride at just the thought.

Brittany had to get up to head over to the gym she was now the manager of. It was a small gym, but she'd spent a little over a year there as a regular employee and did some personal training on the side, and had just recently gotten promoted. She loved helping others get in shape, especially when they mentioned they were interested in kickboxing. It was a totally different game than boxing, but she still had some insight into the art, and was happy to help wherever she could.

It was weird for her to not be the one training every day. Of course she worked out, but even so, her workouts weren't even close to the training she did when she was with Donally's company. She honestly missed it. Not the politics of the game – that she'd had more than enough of – but the thrill of being covered in sweat and still going at it. The strategizing and the hitting, the way everything else fades away besides you and the opponent – Brittany definitely missed it, but she wouldn't trade her life now for anything. It was funny how her life had brought her to this point, but she was still eternally thankful for it.

Her mother and sister had also settled in nicely. Brittany's mom had worked a couple of jobs, but was currently at a swanky hotel restaurant downtown. It was a respectable job that easily paid for their humble lifestyle, and it was more consistent and professional than her previous gigs. Kait was in her new school, and had adjusted quickly, making new friends and even picking up a boyfriend. Brittany's brow had furrowed at that news, but Santana had reverted back into a teenage girl, and she and Kait gossiped and giggled over the boy in question. The line in Brittany's brow had only deepened with that, but Kait had promised he was a good boy, and that Brittany could kick his ass if he wasn't.

One of the biggest things for Santana and Brittany, besides their moving in together, was when Santana came out to her father. She had only sat him down a few months ago, and it was only after he had decided not to run for reelection and to retire. It had been a tension between Santana and Brittany – not fight inducing, but just an unspoken thing between them. Santana had been apologetic to Brittany about it though, but Brittany had been patient, always telling Santana to do what she thought best.

Brittany had taken the trip back with Santana, but had waited in a coffee shop nearby while Santana spoke with her father. After an hour, Santana had called Brittany, her voice shaky, saying that overall it went well. They met up outside, and Brittany wrapped Santana up in her arms, before suggesting they take a walk so Santana could tell her how it went.

Santana had said that her father wasn't as surprised as she thought he'd be. He'd seemed somewhat saddened that Santana had waited until he retired, but couldn't honestly say he would have wanted her to tell him if he had chosen to run for office again. Brittany had held Santana's hand as they walked, eventually sitting down on a bench, where Brittany then wrapped her arm around her. Santana said her father and smiled slightly when she mentioned Brittany. "The boxer?" he had asked. Brittany had smiled, and later that evening, when Santana's father had invited them out to dinner, Brittany promised him that she'd take care of his daughter.

_Yeah_ , Brittany thought to herself as she rolled out of bed,  _her life had turned out pretty freaking awesome_.

"Also, babe, I have class tonight, so I won't be back till late," Brittany leaned over the bed and kissed Santana's ear.

Santana pouted into the pillow, eyes still closed. "Okay."

"Just go upstairs and gossip with Kait about her boyfriend," Brittany grinned, saying the word "boyfriend" in a teasing, sing-song tone. She started picking clothes out of her dresser.

"Maybe I will," Santana retorted playfully.

Brittany let Santana doze and finished getting dressed in silence. She leaned over to give her girlfriend one more kiss before going into the kitchen, where she made herself a quick breakfast. She leaned against the counter as she ate, taking the time to reflect.

They hadn't heard from Ricky since Brittany moved two years ago. Whether he was still in prison or not, she had no idea, but as long as he didn't bother them anymore, she didn't care. Brittany swallowed thickly and smiled a little. Years ago, she hadn't dared let herself be happy; to trust fully in the happiness she felt. She was always cautious, sure that something would snatch all she loved from her in the blink of an eye.

Now, she let herself bask in it. She had her family and the woman she loved. She was working during the day doing something she loved, attending college classes every other night, and recently Santana had suggested getting a kitten or a puppy. Her life was perfect in her eyes, and it terrified her, but she wouldn't think like that. She couldn't even think like that if she wanted to. She kept rolling, taking each day with an eagerness she'd never known before.

As she walked towards the gym that morning, Brittany's eyes lingered over the window front of the jeweler's store a few blocks before the gym. She continued on, her mind still whirring over the ring she'd put a deposit on a couple of weeks ago. She pictured Santana back in their apartment, wrapping the covers tighter around herself. Maybe it was too soon, maybe it wasn't.

Brittany wasn't worrying about it.


End file.
